Us : Human kind (English)
by Veelitann
Summary: They are trainees, they know what they're here for. But despite all that training, they're still human beings, with feelings, questions and answers to give.
1. Chapter 1

**Thank you for taking the time and reading! This is a try for a translation of my own french fanfiction "Us : Human Kind", which is a sooooo long one...**

* * *

It was only the first day, and even so he already felt a bunch of thoughts through his mind, each of them so different from each other, smacked into him. The confidence he used to show suddenly disappeared under their instructor's barking when the man asked them one by one, and his head still painfully remembered that moment. Destabilized for a moment, he was just putting in order his mind. There, in front of everybody, he's been one of the trainees whose ideas were not well received, even only for the reasons of their yearning for this or that position. He wasn't the only one in this case, aiming for some simple, quiet life. With a sigh, he gave a glance to the table on the other side of the big dinner room, where the brown haired guy from earlier was seating with many others still unknown. Getting engaged at the king's sides? With his blessed freckled face, it was even unbelievable he could have such ideas! What that guy could have in mind was his main question. Freckled face didn't look like someone able to fight and he was quite sure a fly would be more effective than him in the battle.

"Jean, that's it?"

He almost started when one from his table talked to him, putting him right to reality and he nodded.

"Oh, yeah."

His new mate facing him rubbedhis own bald head with a amused smile and gave a look in the same direction.

"Ah, that's it, the girls are all in this side! He said, looking like he understood Jean's interest for the other side of the room. "By the way, I'm Connie!"

Jean nodded again even if he remembered him. Looking like he didn't care that much, he glanced once more to the table that interested him and came back right away to his plate. It was kind of hard to empty it, he wasn't used to such a bad –almost disgusting- food. The beginning here wouldn't be easy, and not only food talking, he sigh stirring a little on the woody bench.

"I wonder what the dormitories look like!" continued Connie with some natural joy. 'Eh, d'you think it might be mixed with the girls?"

Jean sneered to the wink from the young boy and didn't turned around for long before explaining him his stupidity and noted by the same way that he definitely felt better, with his raciness back. To their sides, others were smiling and laughing just hearing them, before telling the shorter the reasons why they were.

When they left the dinner room, it's been to take their traps back, as they put them in a storeroom. Finding each other affairs took some times but for the most resourceful of them it got easier; Jean saw the brown guy from the other side of the dinner room appearing and disappearing all in the same very brief moment, silently, his luggages already in hands whereas himself couldn't find his in that imposing pile of bags. Connie took a huge bag with some victorious face and immediately disenchanted before throwing it away.

"Eh, it's mine!" Jean mumbled leaning to take it back.

Forthwith the small boy almost pounced on the bag.

"Really? Come and take it then!"

Despite of his small height, Connie run fast and jean had to show some performance to follow him until the dormitory room he was driving him to. There, some of their new mates were already present and were settling, watching them when they appeared as noisy as they were. The bag suddenly flew before he could put a hand on it, Connie throwing it with no mercy on a mattress, giving a cry of victory. Jean had barely moved to catch the boy's collar but finally gave up when he saw his bag almost fell on somebody who was already bustling on the mattress against the one Connie nominated as Jean's. After smacking the bald head, Jean walked and pulled the bag.

"Sorry," he said. "He doesn't know how to stop!"

"That's nothing," his interlocutor answered with a little smile. "Your friend looks full of life."

Jean raised his eyebrows, surprised to recognize the freckled boy he noticed before. Kneeling on the mattress he started putting some clothes off his luggage to tidy them up, watching around them until he found the shelves already getting full with everyone's stuff.

"A little to much lifefull," he replicated with some dark glance to Connie who already ran to get his own bags.

Later he finally felt quite happy to already have a place. The others took roughly the matresses, some arguing to be or not to be at this or that mezzanine, wood building being nailed to the ground and that meant the triple mattresses style couldn't change and then no separation. Jean sight once more and gave a eye to his bedmate. This one looked quiet and it wasn't so bad. At least he could sleep quietly with some luck. With a lot of luck, he thought as the third joined them to use the last place at his other side and he noted that he was quite well surrounded: the freckled browned boy in his right, and the other (that huge blond guy) in his left. What was his name yet…? Re…Ri…? Some 'n' was going for a trip somewhere…

"Reiner!" he suddenly claimed smacking his own palm with his fist.

The big teenager looked at him oddly, surprised.

"Problem?"

"Ah uh, no! None!" Jean blushed a little, surprised himself.

Farther, another boy called him stupid without refraining, putting Jean in some battle spirit for the rest of the evening. When the curfew finally rang, he already claimed for long that he hated Eren Jaegger under the amused eyes of his two new bedmates.

"C'mon stupid, you're gonna sleep and t'morrow you're gonna be as calm as him," Reiner twitted while slipping under his blanket.

Grumbling, Jean gave a little look on the other side of his bed taking off a part of his clothes at the same time, and discovered with some surprise that the third of them was changing hiding under his own blanket.

"What the…?" he sniggered pulling the thick fabric.

A little scream answered him and a shirt made him blind without warning. He throw it away laughing, to discover the boy folded on himself and squirming to change his clothes without being seen by the others.

"What are you doing?" he gently smiled.

The other boy violently blushed and finished putting his underwear on. On his bare shoulders and the top of his back, a throng of freckles where running, pecking the skin in a particular way and that took Jean a little hiss without even thinking of it and he won a glance that wanting to be reproachful. Jean gave up on everything, a second before receiving a noisy smack on his butt. Surprised, he turned back to meet Reiner's annoyed face who put his hand and long arm far away under his blanket.

"Reiner, you fucking…!"

"Stop bullying him," the blond mumbled, "he's shy so don't make things worse. And go to sleep both of you! Or ya gonna regret it soon in a few days."

Reiner totally disappeared under the blanket, leaving them alone together. With a low voice, Jean apologized to the boy who shrugged quickly covering his shoulders, then they slipped under their own blankets.

"By the way, I'm Jean," he muttered lifting his head for a moment.

The browned boy looked at him before letting a smile illuminating his face for a second.

"Marco," he answered on the same tone height.

"Sorry for earlier," Jean said with a wink, "but well…it was too much of a temptation!"

Marco was blushing again, looking uneasy.

"Ah, hum…Th-that's not that terrible…"

"Shut up, gurlz!" Reiner cut suddenly with an incredible delicacy.


	2. Chapter 2

Obscurity was barely disturbed by the sidelight from outdoors through the dormitory window. Silence was barely unquiet by the loud snore of their bedmates. The bodies heat made the room feels better despite of the frozen air slightly penetrating from outside.

Jean turned on himself once more, lying on the back then. Eyes big opened, he was looking over the wood battens which carried the mattress above their heads. Questions were jostling in his mind, the fear to make a mistake was already here. What would happen to them? Was it really what he wanted to do? Why did he even get that fucking stupid idea? Would he even be able to pass the test on the first days and then got to the real training?

He sight slowly. Beside him, a small movement kept his attention and he held his breath. Marco wasn't sleeping either, it seemed. During a second he thought about calling him but restrained himself when he heard a little noise, some of a sniff, light and discreet. Once, twice. Then silence was back, only cut off by Reiner's snore, and with no doubt the big blond boy slept loudly. Was Marco crying? Those were things that happened to many others the nights before. Jean didn't dare make a move, concentrating on breaths surrounding him. He didn't have to involve himself in it; he didn't even know the boy and it would surely be seen as an impulse of pity. There was nor noise anymore from the brown-haired boy, nor motion. Just his breath which, he could hear it, was still no regular. So he closed his eyes, once more with a sigh, looking for some unhelpful sleep.

"Seriously, Jean, we'll have to see how to do…!"

Jean set over the bench to get his breakfast and lift a curious look to Reiner who was already eating with a high spirit. Raising his eyebrows he made him keep going without understanding the annoyed and embarrassed looks on the bigger guy.

"You move like hell on night, that's incredible!"

Jean almost chocked with his bread eaten too fast and cough for a moment, smacking his chest a little to help, and then gave him some puzzled look.

"Reiner…You're kidding me? That's rather-"

He felt a hand on his shoulder and jumped with surprise as he didn't expect it at all. Lifting his eyes he saw a part of Marco's face, obviously over smiling.

"Oh well, Reiner! Your snores must have kept at least half or the room out of sleep last night!" he laughed. "Your night must have been pretty great I guess?"

Marco smelt kind of good, Jean noticed, something like soap he could even say. When did he wake up to prepare himself? When he opened his eyes (after someone shake him like a tree) he noted that the place next to his was already empty and the sheets cold, surely for a while. Nobody saw him and nobody cared, not even Reiner who shared the same sleep space for a few days now.

Like this, Jean could admire without any restriction that small line of freckles that decorated Marco's skin, coming from the shirt collar. It was something simple and nice to look at, even if he had the feeling his friend was much more about the idea to hide it.

Reiner had looked at them for a moment, speechless and already undergoing Bertold and Connie's teasing as they slept above them in the mezzanine. "Uh…Yeah, that' was cool…", he mumbled, a little vexed but rather aiming for showing a good mind.

Jean felt the pressure on his shoulder disappear and he kept for himself his small disappointment to this. Marco seemed not to be a very tactile person and he had just started coming by them from his own. Reiner stretched a little, his spoon still in hand.

"Already showered?" he remarked raising an eyebrow as he saw his clean clothes. "What a motivation to get up that early! Although we don't sleep that late…"

Marco had an embarrassed laugh, rubbing le back of his head with his palm. Jean took the benefit of the motion and took the elbow to pull on it with a "Sit down, you make me get a torticollis!" and then attacked his bowl while Marco helped himself and got what he needed to eat correctly.

Reiner yawned loudly, getting teased again by Connie who was still watching for an opening.

"It's today for the balance test," he suddenly said before eating his last piece of bread.

Jean stayed there a moment in his bowl contemplation. He'd rather prefer forgetting or run like a coward but his notion of responsibilities was what it was : assuming his own decision of engagement. Prying not to be sent to the deadly work site.

"Eh you're white, Jean!" Connie sniggered coming closer until he fell on reiner's side. "Gonna pee in your pants? I thought you were stronger, like Eren you see?"

At that moment, Jean got darkly red faced and immediately took one of his best proud looks and eyed scornfully the small bald head boy by drawing all his self-cockiness.

"Who's pissed, monkey?" he grinded standing up. "I'm waiting for you performance!"

And he left them like this, striding over the bench to leave the table then the room that became full of trainees. Marco stared puzzled at his training mates then leaned, quite hesitant to what he should do.

"Wasn't it a bit too much ? I honestly think that nobody feels fine about today…"

Connie let out a big laugh, reiner sighing and lifting his eyes to the roof.

"He's too stranded," he said, "and looking at him acting like a fucking egoistic imbued with himself is getting annoying. We have to snub him sometimes, he needs to be treated as common as anybody."

"Oh…"

Marco looked at his mates and gave them a little smile. He never saw the blond boy like this, so discovering others opinion about him was kind of surprising. Connie grunted relying aslant on Reiner, taking him as some chair back.

"That bastard…If I'm a monkey, he's all about being a nag!"

Reiner raised an eyebrow and looked at him from his height.

"You'd better observe less in the showers and get more involved in training…"

He laughed loudly when Connie showed him a crestfallen face when he understood and Marco's burning face was just too hilarious. The freckled boy didn't really know how to react and welcomed himself inwardly to get ready earlier than others.

"Ah, fuck you Reiner, I've a stomachache now…" Connie squeals. "That's your fault!"

* * *

When he got back to the dormitory to take his equipment has their instructors told them the day before, Marco entered a room still almost empty. Most of their comrades were still eating or showering, and he recognized Jean who was fishing dressing up. He felt his glance at his coming and gave him a little and polite smile in return. He only got a long silence and a turning away face. He sighed a bit searching in his own affairs; Jean might have been sulking, after all it was a part of his personality.

A few seconds after that, he was wondering if he had the right to laugh : Jean was trying to put his harness on, without being sure of himself about the way to do it and about to make new bows with the straps.

"Ah, wait! Stop it…," the brown-haired gently said coming closer.

"Don't scoff, that thing is awful…," Jean was mumbling grumpily.

"It's hard to put on when you're alone," Marco had to admit with a smile, slowly putting his friend off from the leather straps. "'M going to help you…Well, if you agree with it!" he immediately added seeing Jean already scowling at him.

Jean sighed and finally spread his arms, resigning himself not to be able to do it alone for this time.

"Please…"

Marco started unraveling the straps, quietly.

"You're worried," he said before putting the back part of the harness on his mate.

Jean tried to turn his head to him and replicate something but Marco didn't let him look. "Stay straight!" he commanded immediately. Sighing, Jean had to obey obediently, grumbling.

"Spread your legs, it will be easier."

"You're not?" he finally asked, obeying again for the boy to strap one of his thighs.

Marco shrugged and then lifted his eyes on him for a second.

"I'm scared," he simply said. "Ah, put your leg there…"

Jean obeyed once more, observing the teenager's motions and wondered if he even cared about how to put that thing on or was more interested in the freckles contemplation. He couldn't say.

"You don't really show it, you're always so calm."

Marco drew the tip of his tongue.

"Reproach?"

"I-I don't think…" Jean hesitated trying to analyzed it. "Take it how it comes…"

"Well, it's a compliment then."

For a moment, Jean had to battle with himself not to blush as hell and feel totally idiot. There was definitely no weird overtone in Marco's words, although he had his own very particular way to say every of his sentences. It was fascinating him, in some of a way. In spite of himself and without even thinking of it, Jean tended a hand and reached a nose with the tip of his finger. All those little freckles were going across his face like a cloud and he smiled remembering his shoulders and back. Squat right before him, Marco frowned and put off the hand of his face with a gentle slap.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing. You have it everywhere on your body. From birth?"

Marco pulled on a strap, tightening it suddenly and too much, and won a little scream from surprise and pain. Then his hands reached back Jean's waist to adjust the harness, checking sometimes if he wasn't wrong.

"Marco…!"

"Sorry, did it hurt?"

Jean noted the harsh tone and the way on talking, more embarrassed than furious that Marco used even though he was still helping him. The brown-haired boy pursed his lips up taking his calm back, obviously disturbed he got carried away so easily, even just a little. Realizing that Jean was definitely letting him do whatever he wanted, he pulled back a little on the too much tightened straps and unstrapped them to free the thigh. He could imagine the little mark surely already marbling the skin under the trousers and murmured a little and contrite "Sorry…", while he was adjusting the harness properly and more softly.

"I will know that's some delicate subject," Jean said shrugging.

He didn't go further on the subject, even though he wanted. Marco didn't look like he was that type but he had a certain strength and knew how to use it, Jean discovered it at his expense.

Marco stood up and gave a look a few moments to the leather straps assembly that strapped the thin body of Jean.

"It's ok," he said turning aside and catching his own harness he undid without making bows or mixing the different parts.

The only reason he succeed was his memory. One on the first things they've been showed consisted putting that fucking harness on, with a lot of demonstration on young trainees. He didn't know how many of them had been watchful but Jean definitely wasn't one of them.

"Need a hand?" Jean tried, touching the one he was wearing.

"Just to dress it up, it will be enough!" Marco sniggered gently, surely laughing in advance.

Jean pouted a little and waiting for instructions, trying to help him as much as possible. First the arms, then slip the legs in the clever tangle of straps. Marco was resting on him with a hand not very sure, leading Jean to make him pass the flexible straps. When he was closing the top part, Jean was clamping a thigh and he finally joined him on the second one. Disturbed by the sudden proximity of his comrade's face, he didn't take care enough and what had to happen…Happened. Unsteady on his legs, Marco overbalanced when Jean pulled inadvertently on his thigh and fell on him without a warning, bringing both them down on the floor. After a moment of surprise, Jean lifted his face, blocked under Marco's body and winced.

"Aouch…You're ok?"

Marco nodded and moved to stand up but finally didn't, falling back loudly at the same place, his head almost on Jean's belly.

"What are you doing?" Jean mumbled a little worried.

"It's…Stranded…", Marco stuttered strying again, more slowly.

Straightening himself as high as possible, Marco slide a hand under his own torso to find where was the problem from and groped with his fingertips. At that moment, Jean let out a small cry.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he hissed.

"Wait, actually buckles clang together…"

"D-don't touch there, fuck!"

A chuckle cut them off and they both turned their eyes in the same direction : two step foreward, Connie was watching them with his harness on his shoulder.

"Seriously guys, Reiner's gonna call me Miss Titbit in not so long…" he twitted turning back on his heels. "Have fun!"

They opened big eyes, one with fright and the other without understanding the sense in those implies and Marco finally realized the position they were into. It was quite normal, with the top of his harness blocked on Jean's pelvis and his own hand…Ah, his own hand meddling on Jean's crotch? …Fuck it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

* * *

"KIRSHTEIN ! Bend your legs more ! And spread your fucking hams! You wanna crash or what!"

Jean bite his bottom lip, fighting down his desir to reply to the instructor who just passed above his head. This was just for ladies! It wasn't as if he couldn't go forward even like that!

He sent his grapnel to hook on a newly reachable tree, rewinding the rope to climb on the branch he was targeting. Stopping a fraction of second, he took a look around him to judge as the distance he traveled as the people still behind him. He didn't really like those training courses, where anyone could appear from nowhere and attack you. They were testing their ability to fight? He doubted he was going to fight humans someday!

A loud crack took his attention and he immediately flew off, narrowly avoiding Wagner who crashed heavily on the branch he was standing on the second before. Jeand sighed. As usual, it had been short. Well, he really did prefer curses where there were only wood titans to destroy, not both humans and titans. He grumbled while he cut a fake neck that notched too easily.

A sudden deep ache brutally stopped his way of thoughts when his feet violently hit the top of the head of a fake wood giant and he noted with fear that his maneuver wasn't working : a grapnel let out a small clack at the end of the rope auto rewinding. And that was all. That was enough to know. Oh god. He let himself get disturbed! He had seen enough of his comrades who died for less than it, even in training. A simple fall and it would be the end of everything to them.

Suppressing the panic that overwhelmed him, Jean launched his grapnel in the hope of hanging on something, anywhere as long as he wasn't facing the ground in the end –and the ground was coming closer and closer. He almost screamed. He missed his target (_fucking god, was he that bad_?), or it was too far from him (_it rather had to be that reason_!), he really wasn't able to say (And he fucking didn't care at THAT moment) and the only thing he could understand at the moment was that fact : he was about to crash like a fucking pancake.

Or like a dumbass, quite a nice choice.

As expected, he gasped violently when he got breathless and his ears caused a hissing from inconvenience because of the wind. But what he saw wasn't the top of the trees surrounding him. Actually he was pressed against a light shirt with a strong arm that caught him in his 'free fly'. The second after, they were crashing on the ground that wasn't so far anymore, their equipment hampering their movements and injuring them. Whithout it, they sure would have rolled a little on the old leafs and earth, with nothing else than the choc of the landing. That was what he thought, barely noticing the darkness falling on his sight.

Marco laboriously stood up, and as long as his mind got clear back he started searching for the body he caught in his fall. If he had been able to lessen the impact, it wasn't with any damages and he felt the blood leaving his face when he found the boy unconscious a few steps away.

"Jean! Hey, say something! Jean!"

He winced at the pain, noticing some small cuts he probably got by falling with his blades, and so he crawled to his friend and shaked him gently. With his lack of response and movement, he moved him with some delicacy, releasing his face and torso, scaring himself when he saw the head swinging unrestrainedly. There, he stuck his ear against the chest, sighing with relief earing the heart still racing quite quickly. At least he was alive, or at least for the moment. Above his head, he felt a wind and heard some mechanical noise, the clatter of a harness carabiner resounding between the trees.

"Marco!" a closer and closer voice claimed. "What are you d…Oh shit!"

The moment after, Bertoldt was landing close to them and joining them in a short run. "What happened?" he asked crouching, touching Jean's body to check for mor injuries than what he was able to see at the first sight, watching out for some reactions.

Marco felt on his bottom and took a handkerchief out of his pocket to swipe some of the blood flowing along his thigh.

"He felt," he said. "It was hard to catch him but he was about to crash badly…"

Bertold shortly nodded ; falls were some recurrent thing. But that high, they meant death. He quaked a second, looking up at the terribly high trees, preferring no knowing the feeling of falling from there. He turned to Marco, gauging him with a glance for a moment. His injuries were only spectacular to look at, because of the blood running, but the boy looked quite fine.

"You can move?"

The freckled boy shrugged and stood up with a grimace.

"I think it's ok. It hurts quite a lot but I can move and walk," he said while carefully squirming to look for some other injuries he wouldn't have felt at first.

"But about him…" Bertold sighed slipping a arm under Jean's chest to straighten him up a little. "He just seems to be stunned, I just hope his head didn't bang too hard….Ah, I don't think it's that bad!" he quickly added when he saw the look of despair Marco was giving him. "The shock and that's all. You should go back."

Marco imitated Bertold to carry the body on the other side and help in taking him as the tall boy was straightening before crouching again, featuring his back.

"Put him on," he said. "I'll carry him, you will follow me. Tie him with your scarf or we'll never do it at all."

Marco nodded, doing what Bertoldt just ordered him, his hands trembling with apprehension.

"Tighten it well, better too much than not enough!"

Marco checked the scarf many times, untied it, retied it, and did it again and again without feeling satisfied about his friend's security and Bertoldt stopped him gently.

"Marco! That's just a node, you know? A node! Hurry up!"

Marco swallowed and gave a last pull on the scarf to feel at ease and took quickly Jean's blades that were still on the ground, putting them in his own vacant boxes, besides his owns. He came back hastily.

"It's ok."

"Well, follow me then. You will bring him the the infirmary, I'll go back here to prevent the instructors."

The journey went pretty well, at least as long as they were in the air. But once the traing area was passed, they had to go back on earth. And walk. Bertoldt was having a bad moment, this time he was supporting all the weight of Jean on his back.

"He weighs a ton," he mumbled. "He doesn't look like that! And of course Reiner is never around when you need him!...Don't make that face, there's no way that you carry him!

Marci pouted a little in contrariety. Even if he knew Bertold was right, he'd have liked to be more useful. He heard a sigh and looked up at the tall boy who was looking at him with a small and reassuring smile.

-You already did more than what you could, didn't you? You saved him, if I remember, and he will be grateful enough about it. Instructors too, I think they're fed up with picking up corpses of their fallen students.

The training area wasn't as far as they first thought on the way. Their division had been moved for a moment next to the closest forest, in order to get better to move with their equipment. And actually, after two years, Jean may have some lacunas somewhere and it was making Marco sigh again. He didn't want to imagine the worst to him just because of that reason. However he knew many others already did die because of that at that particular moment, the same as Jean, and maybe their bodies were already waiting patiently for someone to find them. That was what was always happening, or almost. The next evening, they'd all wait, join, and count each others, they'd check for their bedmates if they were here, alive. Right. Left. Marco raised a hand to put it on Jean's slack arm for a few seconds and then finally pulled himself together as Bertoldt looked at him amusingly.

-Stop worrying and help me if you're that bored! He said.

They were only some meters from the wood door of the building and Bertold kneeled, slightly leaning. "Untie him," he added. "Go get coddled, both you, and be back in good health, 'kay?"

Marco obeyed quickly and untied the scarf around Jean. He felt so reassured when hearing a small whine from him. Bertold sighed with happiness when he finally got free back and waited for Marco to take the body. He stretched a long moment. "He's gonna pay back, I'm sure he's heavier than a dead horse!" Marco laught a little, feeling his panic flying away. Bertold was saying such things on purpose to relieve him. The guy wasn't the type who complained or asked for revenge to anybody: he was always calm and cool-headed.

After a little salute, Marco was alone with Jean and carried him the best he could. Really, carrying a dead loose motionless mass on few meters wasn't something easy. Once they got inside, he almost wanted to haul Jean by his feet but refrained strongly that desir, trying at the same time not to fall. It would be even worse.

When he was about to open the small room, the door suddenly opened wide and he had to gather all of his energy and strength to keep his body balance because of the surprise. A paire of hazel eyes looked at hime a moment before dropping on Jean. The young woman just emitted a soft exclamation and grabbed Jean by his second arm without losing a second.

"What happened? You're from the training unit?" she asked while helping him hauling Jean to the small bed.

They put him up on it and Marco sat on the mattress. There, he started to take off the different elements composing his friend's manoeuver while the woman was auscultating him quickly, supporting him on keeping doing what he had begun. "Two minutes and I'll help you, it migh be faster. It's gonna be easier when he'll be free!"

Marco held a victory cry when the biggest parts finally stayed in his hands and the woman came to give a hand with the most complex to take off. At that moment, she asked him to get off of the bed and her small nose wrinkled a bit when she had a better look at him. "Take off your clothes too!"

Her tone didn't allow any place for any retort but he winced watching her undoing quickly Jean's clothes to auscultate him.

"It may not be necessary that I…"

"Being conscious doesn't mean you're healthier than him," she cut with some dark look. "There, hurry up!"

Marco obeyed as soon as he could, taking off his own equipment. Panic and stress were over and he was feeling back the pain and many bruises already. It made him stiffer and stiffer in every of his movements and finally the young woman soon came closer to him, helping him. She took her clothes with a soft hand, really softer than her tone before.

"Are you the nurse?" he finally asked. He felt a bit stupid with his question. "I don't remember you those days…"

"Not at all, I'm just helping in my days off…, " she mumbled when applying some wet cotton on a wound. "Grit your teeth!" she chuckled seeing Marco's face going white all of a sudden.

She smiled as he was giving a worry gaze to the bed.

"He's not in any danger," she said, concentrate on the boy's wounds. "A bad bump and maybe some hurt ribs but it often happens. We'll se when he wakes up to finish auscultate him better… What happened by the way?"

Marco realized that she already asked for it, and that he never answered.

"He fell in the training, and by some chance, I was there…But…

"The landing didn't look that great, did it?" she smiled. "You were lucky: even playing like heroes you could have failed saving him and what's more you could have killed yourself."

"I didn't think about it at that moment…"

"Sometimes it's better not to think."

She raised her look and crossed her eyes a second on a ginger strand of hair going across her face, and then took a small kit waiting on a shelf not too far. In it, there was what she needed to sew the deeper wounds. Sewing thread and a very thin needle. Marco felt he was already paling when the material came to his gaze and he started catching his shirt. She wrinkled her eyes, looking at him by all her height. And she was small. Rather weird to see such a situation.

"Are you escaping your fate?" she asked while putting the thread in the needle with an apparent long experience.

"We…Well, a-actually I don't feel very good…Su-suddenly…" he whined while watching her do.

She caught a chair with her foot and attracted it to her. "Sit down, baby", she twitted. At that moment, she leaned on him, with a large smile on her lips.

"Well, for somebody who risks his life without thinking to save a friend of his, you're rather delicate! Well, grit your teeth again, it's gonna be quick: I'm used to do that!"


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

When he opened his eyes while awaking, he got suddenly attacked by a violent headache and the so unpleasant feeling that the whole 104th unit walked on him. Eyes half-opened, he gave a slow look almost everywhere, trying to figure out what was happening and where he was –and why. He heard a small metallic noise by his side and turned as much as he could. It was a rather small room, with just a small table full of small bags with barious shapes and sizes. He could see a chair wandering with no real reason in a corner. In some a way he felt like he was in a bed, kind of a narrow one if he had to judge by the edge of the matress that looked so close.

"You're awoken?"

He tried not to blenched and put his attention to the ground beside the bed. From where he was, he discovered a small ginger head, a back curved to the ground, and he sat up a little straighter to see better. She was on the floor, kneeling beside a stretcher with someone on it. The young woman sighted while shaking her head.

"You look great but try not to move that much for now. I have to admit I didn't think you'd awake so early!"

Still dizzy, Jean was listening with just an ear without being sure he was understanding everything, and it might be visible as she added a "Your friend saved you", pointing the body in the stretcher. Without listening even more what was already looking like admonitions, Jean sat up in the small bed. He just feared that he would owe one to that guy Mikasa was over protecting all the time as if she was a shadow. But he got disillusioned soon, suddenly paling .

"Is…is he…?"

The small brown cloud was half hidden under bands and he found that Marco looked terribly pale, compared with usually.

She looked down, shaking her head again but without a lot of conviction. There, she kept on cleaning the last wounds she had just sewed.

"Honestly," she muttered, "I wonder if he will wake up soon, and in what state…Well, if he ever come back to us…"

During a moment, she wondered if she really could go on her bad joke: the boy's face was kind of decomposing as he was looking the unconscious body. Oh, fuck it. New recruts where just so funny to make fun at. Or rather, those two particularly.

"Was it a friend of yours?" she added with a sweet voice. She stood up slowly.

Jean nodded. He wanted to punch her, not allowing her to use the past. Marco wasn't dead yet, was he? He could see his chest moving up and down. He wasn't yet. Soon? She looked like she had already buried and thinking that he could never seen his friend's so candid smile when he'd look at him, his heart and throat squeezed tightly.

"There nothing to do…?" he moaned, feeling about to cry.

The huge amount of bands covering Marco was scaring him more and more. The ginger gave him a perplex look and finally allowed herself to smile, kind of mocking. She was glad about the effect she got.

"Maybe just cure him from his needles fear and make him a man, I don't see what else. For now, a lot of rest and his wounds are cured well enough!"

A blank. Jean wondered how he had toreact. Ou if he had to react. Was it a joke? Just?Simply a joke? But at his feet, Marco was…

His thoughts were all messy and then the door opened without any sweetness.

"Petra!" The stocky man yelled when he appeared at the door entrance. "that boy who fainted, he's still sleeping? Dita says we have to…"

And he suddenly stopped, quite shocked looking at Jean and then the ginger. He frowned, squinted his eyes, not sure about what he was seeing.

"You make one faint and now the second one is crying? Well, congrats!" he said with a big laugh.

Jean blushed deeply as he took himself as the 'second one' and wiped quickly his cheeks with his hands. There he noted with a lonely feeling that he did cry. The young woman, Petra it seemed, laughed looking at him and gave him a small towel that was on the table. "There, wipe your face, big baby!"

"You're having fun," he sniffled.

"A little," she admitted. "You both looked worried for each other when you have a problem. You should have seen his face…Ah by the way Gunther!" she added to the man who didn't move from the entrance. "What was Dita saying?"

"Massaging his temples with some vinegar, I think…", he mumbled raising his eyes on the ceiling. "But Dita and his grandma's medicine, it's not the top, I remind you.

"Anyway all the vinegar is gone in the salad for dinner," she replied. "He's always been too much about those things. Ah, but I think we won't need such a thing after all…"

She pointed with her chin in the air to Marco and reached the chair. Gunther came closer, visibly tired being at the door and put both his hands on the back of the chair, in the woman's back.

On the stretcher, the young boy had just opened his eyes and looked a bit lost, trying to remember the previous events. There he started, looked all around himself at his height. He recognize the woman who raised an eyebrow and then showed with her chin, this time the bed behind him. But he didn't get the time to raise his head that a familiar hand was on his shoulder. No need to look right now.

He already knew those fingers pressure and allowed himself to smile even with te presence of those soldiers, feeling better. Gunther cleared his throat and straightened.

"Hem, Petra, corporal was asking for you by the way," he suddenly said, patting on her shoulder.

She stood up with a quick gaze for the boys and put her hands on her waist, looking at them with some severe looks.

"Well, take a rest, both you. Most of all, check if everything is ok before running anywhere! Blondie-boy, don't move too much, you might have taken a bad shock in your ribs!"

"Petraaaaaa", Gunther sighed.

"Oh man, you got the same last time! I'm going to talk with their instructor, Keith, isn't it?"

Mumbling, he pushed her gently to the exit and let the door emit a loud clack behind them. Finally alone, with an uneasy silence and Jean finally dared take his hand off his friend's shoulder. He straightened groaning a little and Marco turned his head hearing him, almost immediately worrying.

"You're ok?"

"It will pass in a moment," Jean said with a smile he wanted to be reassuring. "But you, that's scary!"

He kept for himself the fear he had because of Petra, too proud to confess about it. Marco smiled a little and looked down on himself, wincing at the needle memory. Knowing he had been skin-pierced with that piece on metal already made him sick again and Jean got surprised when he saw Marco paling again.

"Hey, what's happening?"

Marco had a small gesture to put the question away, ashamed. And finally, he sighed, changing the topic.

"I'm glad you're fine", he said while standing up on his legs.

He gave a look at the room, finding what he was looking for and slowly reached it. He wasn't sure the ginger would appreciate after nursing them like this if anything had to happen. Tryig to forget about that idea, Marco caught his trousers and shirts that were on the chair back, waiting for him, and with a lot of caution he dressed up.

His back looked like a sky and those small freckles looked like a cloud of stars, spread forming improbable constellations, all of them different from each other. That was what Jean was thinking at the moment, staring at the back that was showing off. The stars slipped on his shoulders, flooded his blades and then disappeared, leaving the skin empty on a large part of his back. It was only when his trousers was on that he realized it was back a bit more down; some stars were trying to escape from under his belt.

"What are you doing?" Marco suddenly asked as he had turned his head for a moment, feeling spied.

Jean didn't notice at all, so he started when he got caught.

"Ah uh, n-nothing…It's kind of hard," he lied, trying to make up the situation.

He used to be more discreet even if it wasn't his best skill: for nowtwo years they knew each other, Jean would take a huge pleasure taking a look at any part of skin Marco could show, volunteer or not Jean didn't care. And the shame he felt the first times he spied on him like that finally disappeared. Now it was more some curiosity he still couldn't explain. He just supposed he liked looking at him.

Marco got closer and leaned on him, cutting his way of thoughs. Ah, all those bands, it was too bad…

"You're making a weird face," Marco said.

Jean put his hand flat on his friend's face, hiding himself from his view and took this as an advantage to push him a little away.

"Really?" he groaned. "You're too closed, that's the reason!"

Surprised not to see him anymore, Marco got rid of the hand without waiting, keeping the wrist between his fingers. He blinked a little, staring at Jean.

"You're red. Everything's ok?"

Jean tried to hide himself with his other hand in the same way he wanted to make Marco blind but the boy immediately reacted and finally found himself holding both Jean's almost forgot about their difference of strength, by being with him everyday.

"That's your fault," Jean mumbled looking for something to stare at, instead of Marco's face. "A-and don't be so closed, hey!"

Impossible to looked at something else; Marco was back and Jean didn't know how to act anymore, his face burning –or rather he felt like this, why was he so hot by the way?

There, from so closed, he could feel his breath on the downer part of his face. The tip of his nose brushed his. The big hazel eyes were smiling, looking at him without moving. And suddenly, Marco's face slide, his cheek caressing Jean's. He could feel his lips near his ear.

"But I think this face of yours is so cute," he heard Marco murmured softly.

The pressure on his wrists disappeared right away; the breath on his ear, the cheek against his, everything stopped in a second and he was probably staring at Marco with such a virgin face when the door violently opened at the same time. Marco was already sitting on the ground from God only knew when, looking at him with a sweet smile.

"Well so, how is it about your tries with Mikasa? It's been a while!"

"What the fuck guys, you scared us to death!" Connie yelled, running to them. He was followed by the little group of boys who were closed to them.

_Inspire, Jean. Inspire. Everything is ok. _


	5. Chapter 5

**So sorry for my awful transaltion from my french fanfiction "Us : Humand kind", but I try my best!**

**Chapter 5**

"I win again !"

Reiner put his cards down with a little grin that he didn't even restrain anymore. Bertold raised his eyes to the wood laths that overhung their heads. He sighed and throwed his bad game, imitated by the others. He discreetly glanced at Marco who was taking Jean's cards –and the guy started, obviously not with them. When they came in the small nursery, everything looked normal: Marco was smiling and Jean was pouting –or something like that, as the guy was making such a weird face looking at their group.

"But you're lucky," Connie suddenly said to the two boys. "the instructor doesn't even see your faces for a moment…"

Marco laughed a little.

"I think someone went and talk to him," he said. "Jean got such a beautiful nurse, by the way!"

A titan launched in the hallway couldn't have done better to be discreet. Suddenly exhilarated, Connie and Reiner almost jumped on the poor boy, asking every possible and imaginable questions about the woman. Jean tried to move back against the ladder that went down along the beds. Surprised about the sudden excitement, he tried to take his aplomb back while beating them back with his hands, as hard as he could. Was he still in pain? Was he forcing? Actually, his nakle was in a bad state and he couldn't move by himslef easily. What was surprising was that there was only the ankle (and Petra's previous diagnostic)

"Motherfucker, leave me in peace!" Jean claimed. "You might have seen her already! There's not a huge amount of gingers in the camp!

Marco gave a look at one of his friend's legs that was lying across the matress. Busy with the giant and the dwarf, Jean wasn't paying attention about what was happening around him. And he wanted to take profit of this, just like that, just to see his expressions. What he saw in the nursery was, well…Just, what, by the way? He wasn't even able to explain it properly, but Jean's capacity to show out what he thought always fascinated him. From the beginning. Or his face. Maybe both. Right now, the blond boy was probably ill-at-ease and didn't know what to answer to his comrades. And he surely wanted to take them off him. Marco slightly tilted his head, thoughtfully and straightened a leg as if he was doing nothing. Neatly, he let his feet slipped against Jean's thigh who wasn't so far from him and acted like it was an accident. Bertold discreetly glanced at him but opted for silence when he received a teasing blink from Marco. Ooooookay.

Jean restrained a start when he felt a new contact against his leg, one more with reiner's knee. But Reiner wasn't stroking his thigh at all, he noted, or he missed something at a moment. Or he hurt his head so much and so hard when he fell. Form his eye corner, he looked around to know when the contact was from. The tip of the toes had just disappeared under his thigh as if it was nothing. So it wasn't hard to find their owner, looking along the leg. But Marco wasn't looking at him at all, too much busy with some weird exchange of looks with Bertold. The toes slightly moved under him and he turned his eyes, trying not to pay attention about it and trying to concentrate on Connie who was determinate to know Petra's mensurations, asking for indices and scruting Jean's face to know if he was right.

"Eh eh? What about her boobs? Big?"

"You're drooling, you're disgusting!" Eren mumbled behind him. And he gave him a small kick on his ass.

But as he was in some précarious balance right above Jean, Connie fell with all his weight on the boy without having the time to catch himself up. Even if he rolled on his side as fast as possible when he realized what had happened, they had all heard their friend's scream resonating in the dormitory. His breath still cut, Jean was tightening his arms around himself, hoping he could stop the burst of pain that irradiated his body. All around him, he could hear exclamations, insults, excuses, and he shaked a hand to them. He was ok –he hoped so- and he would surely survive from that. He just hoped they would shut up. He just needed some time for it to calm and if they wouldn't quickly stop making so much noise, the instructor may come soon and put them into silence by himself. A hand suddenly immobilized him without preventing, sweetly, another one coming on his face to hide his eyes. Finally Jean stopped thinking, feeling pretty bad and about to faint again. He could hear a voice from far, someone murmuring in his ear; he couldn't understand the words sliding in his ear but that voice put him to concentrate on something else than pain, until he totally lost conscious for the second time of the day.

His legs wrapped around Connie's waist to immobilize him by the force and a hand putting him to silence for him to shut up, Eren observed the little scene, as his comrades did. Reiner let out a embarrassed laugh when Marco sat up straight, trying not to make the mattress move too much.

"We-well, that's some effective method!" he said, trying to lighten the weird mood that settled.

Bertold gave Reiner a big clap behind the head, having a exclamation of misunderstanding. He raised his chin to Jean.

"I suppose we let him to you?" he asked. "They will ring fr dinner soon, it's going to be a bit more quiet in a few time."

Marco nodded and then accepted Bertold purpose –Et Reiner, pushed by his friend- to move Jean on the matress the shared since their beginning in the 104th unit. One was taking the upper part of the body, another one the downer part, and they were doing pretty well even if Reiner looked scared at the idea to make mistakes. The guy may be a beast on the training, but he was pretty lumpish when he had to act sweetly with people.

Bertold straitghned after arranging the pillow under Jean's head and checked if nothing was wrong. Then he turned to Marco again.

"Don't act like fool, you too, 'kay? Being able to move doesn't mean you have to overdo it.

Marco smiled, understanding easily what Bertold meant, but moving like he did until then didn't break Petra's sewing. Or he didn't felt like this. Well, actually he didn't want to see a needle again before a long moment!

The door stayed half closed for a moment after the little group left and Marco sat on the edge of the bed, touching a band with the tip of his finger. It was about to get off his face. When he decided to help and pull on it –it was useless and the so small wound under it didn't need that thing-, the door moved again and Bertold entered. With two steaming billies in his hands.

"Might be useful, I think?" he said with a little smile in the corner of his lips as he saw Marco's surprised looks. "You can't come with us but it doesn't mean we throw you off!"

When he was closed to him, the biggest –Bertold- leaned to put the small bowls in his friend's hands and Marco thanked him with a smile before wincing when the heat suddenly burnt him. The smell was about to make him drool and he put the second bowl beside the bed. But there was another problem: Bertold didn't seem to move from there, looking at him with some insistence.

"What?" Marco hesitated without understanding.

The tall boy crossed his arm on his chest, frowning and not leaving him with his eyes.

"What did it mean, all that?" Bertold finally launched.

"What're you talking about?"

Marco plunged into his bowl, studying it as he could and moved the inside in the slowest way he could, hoping…Hoping about what?

"With Jean. I can believe you both are close…Well after all, everybody is, here, but..."

"But?"

"Marco…!" Bertold whistled between his teeth, glancing at Jean who still didn't move.

Bertold crouched before Marco and put his hands on his knees, with a little sigh. He was trying to choose his words the best as he could.

"Not that much close…," Bertold added.

Marco winced a little again, but this time it wasn't because of the boiled bowl. "I can ensure you that there's nothing between Jean and me…" Marco murmured. Bertold couldn't avoid the small hint of bitterness that pointed in his answer and gave him a friendly accolade. But he didn't tell him that it was Jean's face, first of all, that gave him those ideas in mind.

"Then that's not that bad," he said. "It's not so great to get attached too much to someone here, danger is everywhere…And I think you saw it today, anyway!"

Marco tightened his lips, quite contrite, but he had to admit that Bertold was right. The tall boy tapped again on his shoulder with a small smile. He looked reassured by what he heard. And then he left the dormitory to go back to the large room where everybody might be waiting for him. Marco was left alone, lost in the contemplation of his meal again.

Lying on the back, eyes closed, he was waiting a little more for the last waves of pain to attenuate. He could note that his breathing was back to normal or almost. All aroung him, the silence and if a hand hadn't been on his shoulder for a moment, brushing slowly the upper part of his arm, he would have think they all fled from the dormitory leaving him alone there. But when he lift an eyelid, here was the evidence: they were all gone. Since when?

He felt a movement in his back and a shadow appeared above him. The body he could guess on the sheets leaned a little and he felt some hair tickling his cheek.

"Feel better?" a voice muttered near his ear.

Jean sighed a little, reassured when he recognized the tone, even if he had no real doubts about Its owner's identity, and he rolled on his back with care. "Yeah, it's a bit better," he groaned. "They're gone?"

"Time to eat. Bertold thought about us!"

Marco moved to get the bowl on the ground and gave it to the boy. Even if it was a bit cold, it would still be eatable. Jean sat up straight cautiously, appreciating the gesture as his stomach suddenly woke up.

"Oh god," he sighed. "I feel like I'm useless!"

"No way," Marco laughed. "You're injured, dumbass, that's not as if it had to be forever!"

"So I'm temporarily useless?" Jean mumbled with some pouting face.

He just noted that some bands had already disappeared from the freckled face and despite all the small wounds that marked the skin, he inwardly saluated the return of those adorable small freckeles he affectionate so much.

…Uh?

Marco turned his eyes under Jean's insisting look. "If-if it was the case, you couldn't eat by yourself like that."

"Really?" Jean creaked when he plunged his spoon in his bowl again. "If no, I wonder what we would do!"

There was a small silence, quite odd, as each of them was pondering about the situation : Jean imagining the frustration of the situation for himself and Marco violently trying not to show him right now about every way to feed him. Visibly, it must have been written on his own face : Jean raised an eyebrow when he lifted his eyes on him and the brown-haired boy leaned on him to take his spoon with some calculating smile.

"Wanna see what would happen?" Marco whispered, the spoon at the same level as Jean's face.

There. That was that face. The one he loved to look at. The redness was already spreading from his ears, sliding on the top of his cheeks. His eyes hesitated looking at him, almost distracting him then his look was fleeing away again before trying to come back.

Jean wondered if his heart was going to miss a beat, trying to understand what was happening. Oh god. Marco's face was so close, actually like anytime he was coming to tease him. Looking down, Jean could see the pale skin in Marco's bad buttoned shirt. Marco's hand was leaning on his thigh. He was four-footed on the mattress. If he wanted, Marco could have kiss him. But all he did was slipping the spoon between his half-opened lips with a smile, pulling the tip of his tongue as his hand was going back a little higher on his thigh. With no real reason.

And then, a big noise. Big voice shoutings. And the door almost jumped out of the entrance. They were back, as noisy as usually.

And Marco was sitting far away, quietly, already taken by someone for a conversation.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

"Seriously dudes, you don't have to…"

"It's ok, it's ok!"

"B-but…No!"

"Lift you leg, Jean!"

"Shut up, Eren! Don't touch me, ou bastard! Connie, take off your hands!"

"Don't make me laugh, you can't raise you legs a bit more? Would be easier…"

"Reiner…! Gonna kill you all!"

When he opened the dormitory's door, Marco stayed there for a few seconds trying to figure out what was happening in front of his eyes. Reiner and Bertold –whoraised their eyes to the ceiling trying to stay calm- had crossed their arms together as firmly as possible to create a human chair. Eren and Connie seemed to try every strategy to make Jean sit on it without him to have to force on his body. But Jean didn't look like he was ok with the idea. Trying not to laugh –it would be badly taken by Jean-, he cleared his throat quite forcefully to take their attention. "What're you doing?" he said, coming closer.

Ramrod straight, Jean was not nicely set and slipped from the arms crossed under his bottom half on it. Both the boys helping him were gripping his legs, one –Eren- with his hands placed even too high according to Marco.

Bertold sighed. "At first, the idea was simply about to make him to the shower…Someone must explain to me how we managed to get this way…"

"Why don't just make him sit as you're trying? Not enough?" mumbled Marco as he was falling down on the mattress.

I pushed away the towel that had fallen from his shoulder when he lay and kept his eyes on the group at about one meter from him as he was finishing to button the shirt he quickly put after his lonely shower –as usually. Reiner turned his gaze to him, a bit blocked by Jean who was gripping his shoulder not to fall on the floor.

"He's not flex enough," he said without listening to Jean protests.

"L-leave me alone, fuckers!"

Marco let out a small laugh and squirmed a bit to see Jean better. The blond was trying to raise his legs high enough. But there was really a problem at the moment. If it didn't disturb him in his everyday life, Jean awfully missed flexibility. Even if it might have been partially cured due to their hard training.

Just for that, he couldn't be jealous and he winced a bit when he saw Connie catching his thigh again without listening Jean's protestations.

Marco sighed –again. "All that for a shower, don't you think you overdo it a little?"

"Gotta better idea?"

Marco rolled on his belly and put his hands under his chin to support his head. Jean really had a wonderful expression, ill-at-ease as by the situation as by the hands that didn't stop touching him in places that felt more and more sensible. Inadvertently. Marco frowned.

…Inadvertently, uh?

"There. That's enough," he mumbled as he sat up on the bed without hurrying. "You're just gonna break him a little more!"

"Marco…"

Jean had just givent him a look, full of despair, clinging to Reiner with all his forces not to fall. Seeing him as vulnerable as he was, was visibly making all their small groupe acting like a giant mama. There was a long time they all had understood how was Jean, especially his way of protecting himself behind a stupide and hurting behavior. But as long as they could break a little this protection, they could find someone really attached to people, a receptive one, and maybe to sensitive. And that may be the reason why they all around Jean. To help him. They worried. The idea could have almost tenderized Marco if not for too much touching and proximity.

Softly, he made a arm of Jean slid around his own shoulders and caught him by the waist, firmly, taking him from Bertold's and Reiner's arms. He didn't take any tweezers with eren and Connie to take them off –no sweetness, especially Eren who was particularly annoying for touching Jean so much.

"You're stupid, guys," he sighed. "Nice but fucking stupid. I'm taking him."

When he was gripping on Marco's shoulders, Jean felt a bit less tensed. Maybe it was because he could feel the ground under his feet again and it felt more reassuring to him. Without thinking much more about it, Marco tightened his arm around his waist, murmuring a "We're going".

When they had disappeared behind the door, Eren turned his attention to both the giants next to him.

"Hey, is it me, or Jean was hella blushing?"

Bertold shaked his head, perplexed, and preferred not to answer. He knew by advance that it would be useless to start a new conversation on that subject, whether it was with Marco or Jean. They could go to hell, with their sweet feelings!

"Thank you," Jean muttered softly.

Marco smiled gently, taking care not to walk too fast despite the fact he could see the door of the showers room. Slowly but surely. It wasn't not too bad for the moment.

"No problem," he answered. "Your ankle is ok?"

"Not easy to deal with…"

Jean sometimes winced when he had to use his feet, and it was so often that Marco restrained himself to make him climb on his back. He would have not be able to handle his weight, he wasn't as strong as Bertold or Reiner. Sometimes, Marco felt like he couldn't go further by being who he was, and he sighed. Jean tensed a little, surprised.

"S-sorry, I'm heavy…", he immediately excused himself.

Marco laughed softly and he adjusted his arm around Jean's waist, letting his fingers slipping on the belly. It was almost sad there was some fabric between his hands and Jean's skin. And he'd have given anything to see his face on a direct contact, seeing the redness that already spread all overt his face. There was still nothing happening for now.

"You're stupid, stop with that and let people take care about you, everybody would be glad about it. And it should be great for you, shouldn't be?"

"But you too, you…"

"Shut up, Jean."

In the small room where the shower boxes were aligned, Marco let Jean go next to one. Like this, Jean could avoid a lot of displacements and the freckled young man receded to sat down on the small dark wood bench in a corner, trying not to hurt his thigh painful wounds. For a moment, he just stared at his joined hands before lifting discreetly his eyes on Jean. Jean who was leaning on the wall to try and take off his trousers. Immediately, Marco jumped on his feet.

"Couldn't call, uh?" he gently reprimand him, already by his sides for him rely on him.

"I-I'm not a child! Jean replied looking down, contrite but taking his offer with some happiness.

Marco maintained Jean the best he could, attentively watching the movments of his hands, the movements of the fabric that slipped along his legs. From the tip of his foot, he pulled the trousers away to put it off Jean's ankles and let it fly away.

"It's ok for the rest…," Jean started with some hesitation as he saw that Marco wasn't leaving him immediately.

"Keep on. The floor is sliding, we would look fool if you fall again."

Jean's shirt had been freed from his trousers and Marco could slither two fingers under the fabric while Jean was squirming, as if nothing was happening and Marco was just taking advantage of that expression. The one where you know he does all he can to show he doesn't notice anything. Wonderful, really.

"Don't move," Marco suddenly said.

Jean obeyed, surprised and not understanding very well at the moment. But when Marco went behind him and put his hands on his hips, his fingers slidding under his boxers belt, he starting feeling worried.

"Errr…M-Marco…?"

The called one just let out a small laugh next his ear and suddenly took the fabric down. Ah, he just saw an ass cheek, and Marco couldn't help but clucked.

Jean lifted his injured ankle when Marco tapped his calf to take the underwear off more easily. He could feel his own ears and cheeks burning, maybe because of the shame and discomfort. When Marco left his legs, he just positioned himself to show him his back, trying to hide himself a little. It was a bit strange; usually, Jean had no problem with any bashfulness and he was everyday naked with his comrades in the showers. But not with Marco. Marco was never here in those moments and he never had to handle his gaze in such a situation. Because even though the brown-haired boy was back to his bench, Jean knew that Marco was still staring at him and he felt like he was losing his abilities. And he had to admit; being naked at the shower time in a bunch of men in the same outfit –no clothes at all- and getting undressed that way, there was a huge difference and he wasn't sure about how he could explain it.

The water felt good. On his arms and shoulders, there was still the rests of his fall. The earth, the leaves humidity , the green of the grass, and he started rubbing slowly to make everything disappear as much as possible. The smell of the soap was quite comforting him, calming his mind. And he could almost forget about Marco's presence, a few meters away.

"Hey," Marco's voice suddenly resonated, making Jean started.

Jean turned his head, still trying to show to the boy his back as much as possible.

"Y-yeah?"

"When you get better, we'll check for something. I mean, about today's accident."

"Uh? Err, 'kay…"

Jean blinked a few times, a bit surprised again. He didn't really understand what Marco could do about it, but it might be better to let him act the way he wanted. He was a clever boy, maybe he would have an idea to avoid such problems in the future.

But for now, his problem was clearly different: if he had to blush that deep every time he would fall on Marco's inquisitor gaze, he wouldn't survive to this year.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

The wood lathes of the mezzanine bed above his head were clearer and clearer in the darkness, as his eyes were getting used to the lack of light. He awoke in a start, the cold sweat sliding along his back. Short breath. He turned on his side, with the hope he could erase the images that had just came through his eyes. There was a while since his last nightmares and he still could feel he was falling across the branches without being to stop.

Outside, the light barely enlightened through the small window. He straightened a little, rubbing his face with a cold hand. For many nights now, he couldn't sleep well. Since the day of the accident. And now he feared more and more about the day he would have to fly again. When he thought about it again, he couldn't understand what happened. Why? He just touched a branch, and well, ok, it should have never happen; but he was used to move with his tridimensional gear, now.

So, why? Why his propulsion system didn't work anymore?

The silence answered to the breaths surrounding him. On the bed above theirs, Reiner's usual snores where resonating with happiness, and almost made him smile. Since the day they got injured, the big blond moved with Bertold and Connie to let them have more space and avoid night accidents.

Beside him, the lying body turned his back to him with a sleepy sigh. He could barely discern his hair, and the top of his crane hardly got off the blanket.

Precautiously, Jean lay down again, putting his own thick blanket on himself to find the heat back. The air in the room was almost cold despite the people sleeping in it, and he put his knees up to his chest to find his own heat. He started when his knee met some soft and hot obstacle and then hold his breath for a few seconds. Finally he dawned on he wasn't under his own blanket from the beginning. And it might be the back of a thigh, due to their respective position and high.

He heard a small sigh when he entered in contact with Marco and the freckled boy suddenly turned again; his leg climbed on his and his arm fell on the mattress with a soft noise, half stretched and missing his face from not so far. Jean spent a little moment before he dare move but finally gave up on the idea : Marco's leg was keeping him and his heat was, actually, welcome. As for a human need or just a physical one, his presence comforted him. So much.

A small moan, muffled by the sheets, came to his ear and he opened his eyes again. Marco's face was partially hidden in his pillow and covered by the blankets until his ears. Jean couldn't do as if he didn't hear the discreet sniffles, as he was used to Marco's sad nights when he was asleep. Searching under the thick fabric, he finaly found the hand, fallen close to his face a little before. And after a brief hesitation, Jean wraooed his fingers around the wrist, rubbing softly his thumb in Marco's hand for a few minutes. This too, he was used to it. How many times had he acted that way? Alond the months, he lost the count and just did it, calming his friend before getting back to sleep and praying for Reiner not to open his eyes at that moment. He never told Marco about it, doubting the boy would take pretty well the fact someone had to care about him when he was crying in his sleep. Jean wasn't even sure Marco knew about himself crying.

The sun didn't woke him up, compare with usually. It was terribly hot and he had the weird feeling that he was about to suffocate. But as a contrast, he didn't want to move. He knew he still had some time before waking up: the sun wasn't high enough, the rays barely reached the small window. He wanted to stretch a little but soon gave up the idea; something was blocking him, or rather…Well, it was. There was definitely something.

Surprised, Marco opened a eye, then the second one to be sure when he discovered the blond hair –yeah, the one he knew so well for getting up baside it every mornings. Well, ok for that part, they were the kind of people to move in their sleep and it always put Reiner into some despair. Ok, maybe. But, just…How the fuck could he be like that, his legs wrapped around Jean's body?

He suddenly shivered when he felt the hot breath on his collar bones. The boy's face was close enough for him to feel it going down into his shirt collar, tickling his skin. Marco tried to move softly, but he got confronted to two big problems: his own leg slid under Jean's hips and the hand, wrapped tightly around his. And he just noted it at that moment. He frowned a little at that point, remembering it wasn't the first time it was happening when he woke up. Or rather, I was the first time he was with Jean under his own blanket and he had never thought about having the boy so close and defenseless. And it was difficult to be closer when he was himself almost on Jean.

Marco retained a new sigh due to the situation, blessing at the same time the cover that was hiding both them –even if it could also be kind of traitor according to someone else looking at them- and the fact that Jean was sleeping as deeply as his other comrades when morning was coming. And Marco was now completely, incredibly awoken.

Then came a moment Jean moved a little, revealing the danger of the situation to Marco when Jean's pelvis also moved, prisoner between his legs and…So close to his own. Surprised, Marco could hardly retained a soft moan when he felt a light touch against his crotch, and put his lips firmly tightened.

Fuck. That was bad.

No time to think; he suddenly unhooked his legs, feeling Jean's body starting at the harsh movement. A small and painful moan resonated in the air and Marco immediately closed his eyes, moving away from a few centimeters –or at least as he could. Even with Jean's hand still xraed around his, the situation would look less abnormal to anybody's eyes. But he missed the heat of his body, his legs back to the cold sheets. He hated that feeling, already shivering from the cold.

"Mmh…Marco…?" he heard softly.

Marco felt guilty for acting that way and almost crossed his fingers for not to have injured Jean again. After all, not Marco nor Jean was responsible of their respective positions and he didn't really have to get off it. Then he half opened an eye, acting like he was just awaking and his heart missed a beat at the view of the boy's face, still half asleep. Those sleepy eyes, his lips, half opened, and the tip of his tongue that came out to humidify them as they might feel dehydrated by the night heat, that shirt that Marco didn't even know where was the first button –or if he even took the time to buttoned it by the way…

Marco closed his eyes, trying to put all those pictures off his retina, and tried to act in a normal way for someone who was supposed to just wake up.

"What?" he sighed.

As if nothing, he pulled on his hand, turning on his back. Like this, he managed to take his hand off Jean's as if he didn't notice. Jean stretched a little before rubbing his hips, visibly perplexed but Marco kept on acting as if he didn't know and mimicked some of a yawn, sliding an arm under his head for a few minutes before sitting up. He just had the time to see Jean's hand appearing in his view and the boy had taken the helm of his sleeve between his fingers.

"Why are you always waking up so early?" the blond muttered in a waking up slurred speech.

Marco raised an eyebrow, a bit surprised by the late question. After all, that wasn't as if I was something new: he had always acted that way, since the beginning.

"That's more quiet," he just said in a low voice, giving a look at the window. "It's rather calme and nobody come and disturb me."

He felt like the time was gone so fast. But not at all. A few minutes only ad passed since the moment he had opened his eyes. Sighing, he finally slided again under his blanket, noticing that Jean didn't let him go, his sleepy brown eyes almost closed again.

"Eh, stop with that…", he whispered while he unhooked the fingers one by one from his sleeve.

Jean moaned a little, indistinctly. Was he even conscious of his own acts, Marco wasn't sure and doubted a lot when Jean wrapped his arms around his waist without preventing. Then he didn't move anymore. His breath was regular and quiet. Jean was just…Sleeping. Simply a tender smile as he was looking his sleeping face rubbed against his arm, Marco just decided to put the blanket back on both them. He just wanted to hide them from the others, in case of. Then, he closed his eyes, taking the time he still had before really waking up.

"So?"

Taking care about not disturbing Connie who was sleeping like a rock, Bertold was set across Reiner and tried to see from their mezzanine where they slept together.

"They're not moving anymore," he murmured, pliting his eyes to see Marco and Jeans's bed. "Can't hear what they said. Maybe they're sleeping now…"

Reiner stretched an arm, his hand sliding on the tall boy's waist, as if nothing was happening, and acted like he was just holding him from falling. And to point it, he moved a little, receiving some insult.

"What'ya doing?" Bertold hissed turning his attention to him. "Stop moving!"

Reiner obeyed by putting his hand down, right on Bertold's low waist and the bay immediately took a nice reddish color, trying to get off the hands, blocked on the big blond who was maintaining him firmly. "Eh, stop it, that's not funny…"

"That's weird, it amuses me a lot…!" Reiner muttered with a wink.

With his big hands, it was easy for him to move Bertold's thin body, taking him against him. He wrapped his waist with an arm and made them roll on a side without listening to his friend protestations. There, he let his other hand go down, almost on a cheek, despite of the brown boy who was debating softly, trying not to make the bed move too much.

"Ah, stop it," Reiner groaned. "Ans sleep."

Even in this position, if Connie had to wake up, the small boy would only see Reiner big back. Bertold was hidden on the other side and he sighed, getting a bit more quiet again.

"try anything more and be sure I'll kick your ass," he threatened while closing his eyes. He tried no to pay attention to the chuckle he received.

But well. That was not so bad. At least not, it was hot. He might think about forgetting for this time.


	8. Chapter 8

**The day I can have a proper correction, I'll edit ! But for now, you all still have my own translation...**

**At the moment, I've up' the 99th french chapter! Still a long way to go for you...**

**Chapter 8**

"Hey, what's goin' on this time ?" Reiner mumbled as he had to step aside to let some comrades walk quickly in the narrow hallway.

"Kirshtein has fallen! We're taking the barrow!" Wagner claimed in a hurry before disappearing, running with the others.

"Oh fuck, that fool…"

Jean had been authorized to go back to the training just a few days before. Until then, they all trained on the ground, learning more about body fighting. Nothing exceptional. Today's program was just something simple, almost a humdrum daily shifting, something they often had to do between two big trainings on the ground, just not to get rusty. But Jean hadn't fly till his accident and nobody knew what really happened that day. And nobody knew about his mental state at that moment.

The big blond kept walking to leave the buiding and go to the second training session. He crossed Bertholdt on the doorway; the young man was just tightening his leather harness on his thighs, about to finish his quiet preparation. Reiner pointed behind himself with his thumb to the small group already back and they stepped aside.

"They told you?"

"Yeah," Berthold sighed. "It might become a problem, by the way…"

Reiner nodded and crossed his arm on his chest before looking at Bertholdt'd thighs. The tall brown boy was almost done swaddling himself with the straps, making Reiner smile lightly.

"Some help?"

"Fuck you, Reiner," Bertholdt groaned while straightening.

"Kirshtein! What does that mean?"

Jean started hearing the loud voice of their instructor. The man even came back to find them. His mind was messy and he couldn't find any rational reason to give. All he knew at the moment was that he couldn't stand up: his legs refused answering to himself. He could feeld thecontracted muscles, painfully tensed with incontrollable trembles. His cheek was burning, were Eren had slapped him violently to awake him the faster he could. How did it all happen, this time? He remembered going with the others. He could see them the roofs go so quickly. Grapnels were working pretty well. He was flying rather normally. And then? Then he felt that sensation. Vacuum. Under his feet. Fear immediately showed up. His body stiffened in a second. And a sudden pain in his legs had appeared. He might have hurt himself in a movement. So, why was he alive, from so high?

"C'm'on Kirshtein! Your resultats are worse and worse these days! Even Wagner is improving!"

Jean looked down. He tried. Well, he was trying his best as possible but he could feel that something was wrong. Now. And he couldn't get what was happening. From the corner of an eye, he saw something coming and it took him a moment before he realized his friends were becoming his stretchers. And at that moment, he could get the situation better, his mind coming back slowly. Someone was supporting him in a sitting position and a hand was applying handchief on his forehead, his neck, his collarbones –seemed that someone opened his shirt?- to wipe off the cold sweat he had. That was fucking right : he felt that bad.

"He's white!" a voice said. Connie, actually.

Jean felt they were raising him up, without being able to define who was exactly touching him and how many they were. He just could feel his heart beating accelerate when he couldn't feel the ground anymore and gripped the first jacket he could find. Gritting his teeth in sudden moment of panic. A small pat on his shoulder tried to comfort him and he recognized Eren once he was lying on the small stretcher. The guy, as for the others, were showing worried faces even if they didn't want to. In fact, it wasn't a situation they were jealous of. He knew what was waiting for him if he wasn't able to fly again in a few time. And didn't really enjoy the choice between dying in training and being sent to the work.

"Any wounds?" he heard as he was carried. He hated that feeling too.

"Shouldn't, I caught him on time."

Ah, Eren's voice. Was it the only reason he was still alive? Someone saved him in extremis again?

"He's lucky then! You were behind?"

Eyelids half closed, Jean just sighted a weird smile on Eren's lips, as the boy was slightly turning his face to Jean to look at him.

"I was just keeping an eye…In case of…"

The small room hadn't changed. The bed was still that narrow and this time he wasn't comfortably set in it. The stretcher had simply been put on the bed, with him still on it. No more sounds. And Eren was the only one who stayed to be kind of a company. In this type of situations, injured ones were never let alone, especially if they were kids. Like them.

Jean tried to sat straighter to check if everything was ok with himself.

"It's ok," Eren said. "There's nothing bad apart where you bumped before falling."

Eren received some doubtful glare and took the small chair he had put closer a moment before. "Marco might have thought about it," he added. "He asked some of us to take care about you. Maybe he was afraid about something like that, I dunno!"

"Y-yeah…," Jean murmured, hesitating and turning his eyes.

In a way, he felt ashamed. Really. Maybe because it was Eren and he couldn't let himself have his usual fighting spirit against the boy in this situation. In another way, he could feel reassured not being alone at that moment. Receiving some little attention, even like this. He was alive, thanks to that.

"You're ok? You still look pale…"

"Honestly, I wanna vomit my breakfast…" Jean admitted in a low voice and a wincing smile. Eren gave him an amused look, quite happy to see normal reactions from Jean.

He laughed lightly. "That means you're ok then! So what happened?"

Jean shaked his head slowly, trying to explain shortly. He didn't say details about his own feelings, ill-at-ease at the idea to show himself that much. Eren crossed his arms and gave Jean a long glare, thoughtful for a moment.

"Panic, maybe? When I've put you on the ground, you were hyperventilating. You didn't notice? Ah, well, I think you weren't able to understand anything…

Jean furiously blushed. Panic. Fucking wonderful! Said like that and from Eren, he could feel violated despite all his efforts to impose himself in his new daily life. He didn't want to reduce everything to zero all that simply!

Silent for a moment as he was looking at him, Eren finally leaned a little, glaring at him right in the eyes. Jean started when he suddenly noticed the proximity. He was just so lost in his own thoughts!

"Hey, wh-what are you doing?" he mumbled.

When such a situation was happening, it wasn't that guy Jean could find at a few centimeters from his nose. But that angel smile and those small freckles spread all over the cheeks and the tip of the nose were definitely missing.

"Where is Marco?" Jean immediately asked without even thinking about it.

"Why is it always about Marco?"

Scowling deeply, Eren didn't step back. And suddenly, he launched his hand to Jean's shirt attracted him a little to him, his teeth gritting. He looked pissed off, but Jean was quite used to it –after all it was his thing to piss him off whenever he could. But Eren was apparently trying to quell it.

Jean felt the tip of his own nose touch Eren's and he winced as he was trying to take the hand off his collar. Since when did that kid had so much strength? By the way, since when was he so tall?

"Why d'you wanna know?" Jean groaned.

"Why should you care?" Eren replied in a muffle.

The brown boy straightened on the chair and put a knee on the edge of the small bed. Jean noticed it, feeling the contact between his own waist and the boy's leg.

"And you, why should'ya c…"

But Jean didn't get the opportunity to keep on talking. Nor the physical ability. Nor brainy, by the way. His mind didn't tell him how dangerous it was becoming, even facing Eren's weird proximity.

His mouth had been taken by his comrade's –and rival-, and Jean was hardly able to understand what was really happening, his eyes opened wide. The other leg had moved quickly and the body was straddling him, Eren's weight on his belly. And in a very short time, surely emboldened by the lack of negative reactions, Jean could feel a small tip of tongue sliding between his lips.

Jean stopped thinking from that moment.

He bit.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

"You motherfucker…"

He was surprised –at least if he could be even more- when Eren's hand violently hit him, pushing him hard on the mattress. The fingers were tightening around his throat, already painfully even if Eren didn't really seem to strangle him.

Eren licked his lips with the tip of his tongue, wincing at the feeling : it was sore and distasteful where Jean had bit him and it was quite disturbing him. He leaned, not really smiling and for sure in a bad mood now.

"I didn't think you'd be such a virgin, Jean," Eren breathed. "But you don't bit that hard…That's the same as the rest, you're just able to speak?"

Jean gritted his teeth when he felt Eren's lips touching his jaw line, sliding to his ear and slightly bit the earlobe. The surprisewent off at that moment and Jean suddenly tried to put Eren off him with both hands, not sure to be ok already. Eren immediately reacted, leaving his throat to maintain his arms on the matress, like a cross and without any sweetness.

"Leave me!"

"Gimme a good reason."

With a little bite as his hands were occupied, Eren broke one, then two shirt buttons still attached too high to his taste, Jean squirming under him.

"Get off Eren! We're mates! What the fuck are you doing!?"

"My little things. Stop squeezing."

The brown boy slid his mouth in the more practical opening he made for the shirt, caressing a collarbone with the tip of his tongue. He brievely pestered against Jean's powerful teeth before himself give a lightly hard bite, then a second one at the base of his neck without being gentle.

"Stop! Get off I said!"

"Oh god, don't tell me you act the same with Marco?" Eren sneered straightening his head, his nose bridge wrinkling with annoyance.

Jean tightened his lips with a dark look to the other boy straddling him. At that moment, he noticed that Eren wasn't wearing his gear for a moment. And his own legs seemed to work again, or at least he didn't feel the pain from before. Without a warning, he pushed a knee up as far as possible to try and hit him from behind.

I was a bit too short to really hit eren and he was just able to make him fall on his upper torso. Fuck-fuck-fuuuuck! Without that manoeuver gear he was still wearing himself, it would have been so much easier to get rid of Eren!

A violent punch in the face stopped him in his thoughts and he got quite dizzy while a hand was pushing his head in the pillow, the fingers spread all over his face, hiding a part of his view.

"Nice try…" Eren groaned.

The taste of blood in his mouth was quite disturbing and his cheek hurt a lot. And Jean couldn't understand how they got in it. He could feel the fingers sliding on his thrit, taking benefit of their way on his throat. Eren put a knee over him to block one of his arm, immobilizing the other one as he already did before. His face freed, Jean saw him leaning a little on his back. Behind Eren, he could feel the brunette's hand running on his belly with a certain weight. Then his low waist. He heard the metallic sound of the bucles when the fingers unmade them, the noise of the fabric when the trousers got opened by the way, even if Jean was still agitating as much as possible.

Oh god, not that! Not with that satisfied smile, Eren!

He shivered hearing Eren smile softly as the fingers were touching the skin hidden under the fabric.

"Eh, already crying?" Eren murmured.

"Well! If anybody had come here I think we'd been warned…What exactly happened to you friend?

"Actually he…"

The sound of the door. Voices –especially one. And if Eren was slow to react, Jean's blood already made a whole turn and even more : he was already yelling, surprising himself by his own voice tone. And imploringly.

"Reiner! Oh fuck, hurry up!"

No need to say a lot more: they were both a wonderful image, enough to explain the situation with Eren immobilizing Jean, strongly, his hands lost somewhere at his crotch.

Two steps and Reiner was here, Eren already stepping back. He just omitted a detail : the big blond wasn't alone at all and the stubby muscled man with him caught him without a warn, taking him from behind with an arm around his neck.

"Got him," said Gunther immobilizing him with his other arm. "Man, you were talking about that blondie?" he added with a glare to Jean. "God, everybody wanna make him cry or what?"

Reiner thanked him with a nod and kneeled to the bed to be at the same high than Jean who was still looking at them, his chest a little straightened. He was still fast breathing and a little too much looking at Eren who was squirming under Gunther's hands. The strength of the man was rather impressive, he told himself rubbing his own sore wrists and sitting up. He heard a small noise and looked down, finding Reiner's worried face. The guy had just gathered the two buttons that fell on the floor.

"We'll fix it later," Reiner murmured putting them in his own pocket.

With his large large hands, Reiner brought the two sides of the shirt together, trying to make Jean look better, without a huge success. The fabric had been stretched while he was fighting back and many buttons were about to fall too. Following the buttons line, Jean deeply blushed when he discovered the opening of both his gear and trousers. Discomfort and shame appeared one by one on his face and Reiner patted his shoulder.

"Don't even try to think it's your fault, I know you…," he gently threatened.

Jean turned his eyes, trying to close his clothes with both his hands, more shaking than what he would have thought. Gunther left them together, just saying he was bringing the other boy to his superiors and disappeared in the hallways. He had shut Eren up with a hand to avoid any scandal and move silently.

With a moment of pity for his friend, Reiner made Jean dress up in a second and closed quickly his harness not to let any proof. Then he made Jean slid off the bed, let him put his feet on the floor and undid the rest of his gear that was still on since the training.

"They're not clever…," he mumbled while putting the gear on the floor. "Wipe your face, I don't think you want someone to see you like this."

Jean nodded silently and rubbed his face with his sleeve, kind of erasing the tears that marked his face. He felt pitiful. Simply pitiful.

Reiner kept on moving without stopping, going ahead for everything. He checked on every visible part of his body, with an insult when he noticed the cheek colorating with a nice shade of blue. There he argued about Marco who would certainely not like seeing him damaged like that. Jean didn't replied, not in the mood for answering to such a thing and just let Reiner act.

"Can walk?"

After a hesitating try, the boy could. Still shaking though but Reiner adapted his own speed to Jean's even if the blond boy had to hold a hand on reiner's shoulder to feel more confident. There was no way, to Reiner, that anything would happen again. It was enough for the moment.

The 104th unit building was filled progressively, the second training session coming back from the training. Jean scowled and raised his eyes on Reiner. "Eh, you skipped ?"

"there was something weird," moaned the giant.

Jean rubbed the corner of his mouth, finally spitting a few blood disturbing him. The small wound in the inside would be a problem for a few time.

"Eren should have been in the second group today," Reiner added. "He might change, no problem with that…Or rather even if instructors don't agree you still have someone who accept and change their places, and I'm even the first one to do it…"

Reiner pushed the dormitory's door, glaring quickly in the inside. It was still empty, it was too early for someone to be alone here. So he gently pushed Jean in the room before closing behind them and encourage the boy to go to his bed. A few days ago, Reiner himself had to use it back again.

Jean sat on the edge, reassured to find back an environment he knew, almost comfortable. Reiner squatted in front of him and started unmaking the harness of Jean, avoiding violent gesture as much as possible. Even if Jean looked great at the moment, anybody could have been unstable after such a thing. And no need to be so clever to know what could have happened if they didn't come at that moment. It was already a bit short…

"When we arrived for the session, we saw they were all already back but Eren," Reiner said. "We thought it was weird that he stayed with you due to your rivalry… That and Wagner told us he'd been really insistent to make the change with Franck, they're almost scared by Eren actually. But I admit I thought he would try to punch you instead of…Well, you know…"

Jean nodded slowly. It was hard to understand. The reason why Eren acted that way with him. They never got close, or at least not to that point. If he had to think about such a link, maybe it would have rather been with….

Ah.

"Fuck… Reiner, where's Marco?" Jean suddenly asked, worrying.

"Mmh, he might be playing with the others in the main room, Connie said he was taking his play cards when we're done…"

The big blond made him lift his ass to make the harness slip along his thighs and smiled. He guessed what was disturbing Jean.

"Don't worry. With what Eren did to you, they may put prisoned him for a few days at least. Oh god, what a face you're making! Still blooding?"

Reiner had added his last question because Jean had put his hand near his chin again with some disgusted expression. The smallest boy shrugged and spitted a little again.

"I prefer this than something else."

"You should see your face…"

"It's becoming a bit disgusting…"

"You're the one who's disgusting, eh!" Reiner growled when he saw Jean did. "You're gonna put some on…Ah! Take care, it's flowing everywhere!"

"What's flowing everywhere?"

They both started together when they heard the voice from the door and turned their head in the same movement. Reiner was searching for some great answer to give and Jean preferred concentrated as much as possible on his own mouth. And not at all on the spoon handle that was getting out of Marco's. Stick between his lips. Oh no. Not at all.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

When he was coming back from the rooms where they had put their so cumbersome equipment, Marco had let his comrades take him with them without taking a few minutes to rest. The idea of thinking about something else, all together around a large table for a few hours with a simple game was actually the best idea for the most of them. And he quite agreed with that.

He stretched slightly, feeling all stiff after such a long training fly, then straddled a bench to sit with his friends, laughing with them to some jokes. Small bowls full of porridge were here and he took one with some pleasure.

Sometimes, between two slow spoons, he raised his eyes, looking for the usual thin face. And he was more and more surprised not to see him appear. Jean still wasn't here even though he took part of the first training session of the day; He'd really had like to know the result of the day from Jean himself and know if everything had been ok.

As he saw Wagner entering the room yawning, Marco called him with his hand and waited patiently for the boy to come.

"Didn't see Jean? I thought he'd be here for a moment…"

Wagner raised an eyebrow, visibly surprised and ill-at-ease. Or rather, he didn't know what expression would be the best: everybody knew both Jean and Marco were inseparable, so he was hugely surprised that Marco still didn't know.

"Well, I guess he's still in the nursery, if you didn't see him…," he started, searching a little how to begin with the subject.

Wagner felt a bit scared when Marco suddenly stood up, about to fall off the bench that blocked his legs. But he had to admit a certain lack of credibility from the brown boy when the spoon agitated a little under his nose, threatening.

"What did you say!?"

"Shhh, calm down…"

"Thomas!"

Thomas sighed and took Marco by the shoulder to take him apart. Some looks already were on him, curious, and even if Jean's new accident was a secret for those who were present at that moment, no one had talked about it.

"Jean fell again", Thomas said softly, trying not to avoid Marco's gaze when he saw his face decomposing right away. "D-don't look at me like that! Seems he was ok, Eren caught him in the fall…"

"Why did nobody said a word about it?" Marco hissed, as nervous as worried.

"Maybe cause it wasn't his best moment," Wagner hesitated with a look for the table where there were more and more gathering people.

Marco scowled and took Wagner by the shoulders to another table where they'd be more quiet. He made him sit by his sides and crossed his arms on the wood of the table.

"Tell me," he said.

Thomas sighed and put his chin on his palm, looking Marco in the corner of his eyes.

"Honestly, we didn't really need to go and take a barrow," he started before regretting his own words. Marco was already reacting.

"You said there was nothing serious…!"

"B-but that's true! Eren is very good, be sure Jean may have not even feel anything!"

"So what are you…"

"Let me finish!"

Marco tightened his lips, trying to calm himself down. It was quite hard to him to make the effort to listen and wait at the same time when he could already be by Jean's sides and check if everything was fine. Thomas crossed his arms and shaked his head.

"Well, the problem is…Jean is…How to say? It looked like some crisis, I've already heard of it but…When you see it for real, that's so impressive! I think they talked about hyperventilating, something that way…I really thought he was dying, that was hella scary!

Marco was really trying to listen quietly. His hands might betray his nervousness, rubbing his own cheeks to refresh them a second then joining, squirming, playing with his spoon he put on the table then was it taking back before going back to his own face. He should have been present.

"And then?"

"He was so rigid and shaking so much he couldn't stand up, so we went to take the barrow and bring him…The instructor was furious! But well, letting his own anxieties overwelhm him in a simple training, with our level, it's just…

""You left him alone?" Marco cut him.

"Uh? Nah, Eren stayed…"

Marco breathed slowly then gave a eye to the people behind them. Eren also wasn't there. Maybe still with Jean?

So he stood up, under Wagner's perplex gaze who imitated him.

"Where are you going?"

"Blacking my boots!" Marco growled with a quick hand gesture.

With a head sign, he meant tot Connie that he was leaving, then took the corridors. It was cooler there and it wasn't so unpleasant; he felt a bit hot after that, abnormally shaken. He could understand the reactions from the others about Jean's honor but they really didn't have not to talk to…To? His friends? Close to him? Himself?

He calmed down all of a sudden and slowed his walk. Why him, actually? How could he even talk about a particular proximity with the boy? And if it would be the case, why should they care? They weren't in a case where friendship, whatever they could be, could give advantages. So, maybe it was normal.

The nursery door was slightly opened. Some noise inside comforted him and he quickly knocked before going in. But all he found inside was Gunther, sitting with a box and blades in it, on his knees. He was busy checking the equipment. The man raised his eyes and lift an eyebrow then smiled when he recognized Marco.

"Hey! That's the day…" he said agitating his screwdriver to the boy.

"Ah, uh, you are…Gunther?" Marco hesitated, coming closer.

He looked all around in the room, paling a little when he saw the blood in the barrow. At the same moment he cursed Wagner and his fucking weird notion of seriousness.

Gunther let him do and sighed. "Oh, that…Things that happens, we were just lucky to arrive on time…!"

Marco gave him a uncomprehending look, visibly ready to hear the worst things. The man took his time and finished closing the body of the gear box before taking care of him again.

"What are you looking for?"

"I-I've been told that Jean –my friend actually, had been brought here today…"

Gunther stared at him a moment and scowled, looking surprised.

"You're a bit late, he went out before with someone. I suppose they're in the dormitories? After what happened, I think he needed some calm. Being comforting might be good for him, we've some who left the training camp for less than it!"

Marco briefly thanked him even though he didn't understand everything Gunther was talking about, and went off the small room. Trying not to precipitate. There only, he noticed he still had the small spoon between his fingers and put it between his teeth, with the hope he could calm down concentrating on it. What did really happen? The question was turning and turning in his mind, keeping him from being attentive to his surroundings and he felt himself violently bumping in something. The voice took him back on earth.

"Oh god Marco, be careful…," Bertholdt sighed.

A shower towel across his shoulders, the tall brown boy had taken his time for a shower after training. Marco excused himself, a bit still not here, and was already about to keep on walking when Bertholdt added.

"You saw Jean?"

Marco couldn't hide his surprise and raised his eyes on Bertholdt's serious face. Now, between Gunther's weird talking and his comrades's behavior, he was even more worrying.

"Not yet…," he mumbled chewing on the little spoon.

"Reiner might have taken him to the dormitory, I think Jean will be glad to see you. Even we we try to be strong, that's not something you… "

"Reiner?" Marco cut, surprised. "Eren wasn't with him?"

Berthold had a annoyed grimace and rather than explaining something he couldn't by himself, he just pushed Marco softly to make him go in his previous direction.

"You're gonna ask by yourself…," he whispered while leaving.

_Fuck_. Marco didn't wait a second more and accelerated, to finally push the wood door he was looking for. The big room looked empty at first when he entered in silence but a chat and movements told him the reverse.

"You're gonna put some on…Ah! Take care, it's flowing everywhere!" Reiner's voice was growling with his legendary delicacy.

"What's flowing everywhere?" Marco said coming closer from some steps.

If he felt reassured by recognizing Jean from far, sitting on the edge of the bed, he felt his blood freeze the second after. Jean's face looked aggard, his hands covered with a mix of blood and saliva he was still holding in his palm and he was just showing a scary looks. And it wasn't counting on the hematoma spreading on his face, from his jaw to his cheekbone.

Without caring about Reiner's rather long and intense time of reflexion at his appearition and Jean's frightened looks, Marco was already kneeling in front of him the same way Reiner was. The big blond growled a little when he felt a bit pushed out from his place.

"What did happen?" he asked, trying to talk as soft as possible.

"He got aggressed," Reiner answered for Jean.

Jean gave him a dark glare before receiving a small pat on the head. Marco had quickly noticed his outfit, his hands already checking on the opening of his shirt.

"How…How could that had happened? I thought Eren was…"

"By Eren."

Marco felt the shiver going through Jean's body when Reiner talked. At the moment, his eyes fell on the marks and bits left by Eren's teeth, that and there on the light skin. He swallowed, closing the shirt without releasing it.

An agressin. At first, he thought about some fight, with their wrists. As usual.

"Jean", he murmured. "Did he…?"

Marco looked up to Jean's face and the boy turned his gaze, ill-at-ease and feeling ashamed. Reiner moved his hand to take Marco's attention.

"He didn't have the time to do anyth…Oh god Jean, stop doing that, that's fucking disgusting I told you!"

"But it annoys me!" Jean immediately replied. "And stop talking about Eren like that, you!"

For a second, He wanted to stand up, suddenly up on his legs. And loudly fell back on his previous position, taken by a terrible vertigo. Jean took his own head in his hands, moaning a little. The second after, he was laying on the bed, without any precaution and almost with force.

"S-seriously, leave me alone!" He almost yelled trying to get rig off Marco and Reiner's hands that were bedding him down.

"Stop moving," Marco decreed with a voice he wanted to keep calm.

"God Jean, you're imposible…," Reiner sighed, maintaining him.

"It was just vertigo! Leave me! I'm ok, fuck you!"

Marco felt like he worried for nothing and inwardly sighed in relief. At least until Reiner talked again. Like some barbarian.

"Really? So you see no problem if I go and take Eren back for him to continue what he was doing, in this case?"

He felt Jean tensing under his hands, paling so much. Ok, maybe Jean wasn't as fine as he looked. "D-don't say silly things," Jean whimpered , suddenly quiet and obeying.

"See, when you want…," Reiner sighed. "Marco, I leave him to you."

The brown boy nodded and put his bottom on his heels, sit on the mattress beside Jean. Reiner scowled a last time looking at him.

"And stop with that fucking spoon, you're gonna break a tooth!" He finally launched before leaving them in the huge room.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

"So?"

Reiner almost started when he heard the familiar voice. The door barely closed as silently as he could, he didn't have to go so far in the corridor after that. Against the wall, arms crossed on his chest, Bertholdt didn't take the time to go to the big room with the others. From where they were, they could hear exclamations and laughs.

"He's lucky you came in time."

Reiner considered him perplex a moment, and finally he put his hand on the wall after coming closer, right above the boy's shoulder.

"How d'you know all that?" he moaned leaning a bit.

Even if it was just a little, Reiner always appreciated the fact he was still a bit taller than the brown guy. There were some small advantages.

Bertholdt let him do but kept an eye on every of his movements. Despite it, he didn't seem to stop.

"I met the man who took Eren. It wasn't a secret, according to him. He takes it as a misadventure like another."

"I see…"

Reiner got silent a second, glaring from the corner of an eye to the way of a slow drop sliding along Bertholdt's neck. He took the towel on the shoulders, the lift it a little and better dry the wet hair with it. Bertholdt raised his eyes to the ceiling, sighing, but decided to let him act the way he wanted, for once. After all, Reiner had rather acted well, running as he did and disobeying to the instructors' orders. "What did Marco say?" he continued, choosing not to take care about the insisting hand, still resting on his head.

Throught the wet towel, Bertholdt could feel the shape and the pressure of the big fingers. In some a way, it was pretty relaxing. But he knew Reiner for so long and the guy wasn't the type to be that tactile.

"Nothing for the moment. I think he's rather shocked but he'll try his best not to show Jean."

"And Jean?"

Reiner hesitated. He let the towel fall back on Bertholdt's shoulder and slid his fingers in the dark and messy bangs, earning a rebellious exclamation. The hair gave him the impression to be frozen. It was only wet, even without dripping as much as before. Looking at Bertholdt as messy-haired as that was quite funny and unusual.

"He tries to act strong, even if his pride was trampled," Reiner said. "He might put it aside in front of Marco, who knows…"

Reiner let his own fingers caressing between the short bangs, not showing his interest. The smell of soap was discreet, only discernable because he was that close of Bertholdt. The tall brown boy had a small smile on the corer of his lips and lift a hand with the idea of taking Reiner's off. But just when his fingers touched the wrist, he raised his eyes to see the blond was…Incredibly closer.

"Eh, what're you doing?"

"Taking profit?"

"Too much according to me," Bertholdt moaned, tightening a little his fingers around the wrist.

"C'mon, I earned some reward, didn't I?"

If Reiner looked calm, it was just his appearance. His breath betrayed him and Bertholdt almost wanted to have fun of him. Almost. A reward, uh? Under the insistent look, Bertholdt was feeling like he was losing his luster : usually, the big blond gave up quicker.

"Some new meeting with my knee, enough as a reward?" he whispered trying to look at him in the eyes.

Reiner had a hot breath. In the cold air of the corridor, it was great to feel. Bertholdt shivered when his friend straightened slightly and stepped back with a light grimace. There only, he noticed that himself was still holding his wrist with the tip of his own fingers.

"My guts still remember, at least," Reiner sneered.

Bertholdt didn't get the time to say anything; if Reiner had moved a little to be safe, the upper part of his body suddenly leaned. And he felt more than saw his face slipping to his neck, closing his eyes apprehending the contact. But there wasn't any, or barely.

"Oh, R-Reiner, what the fuck are you doing?" he heard himself stuttered out in a low voice.

He thought he heard a small –so low- whine, lost somewhere in a breath against his skin and shivered again when the lips simply brushed his skin without a warn. Pushing him back? Waiting and let him do a little? Fuck. Sometimes, he didn't really have the strength to react.

"Finally don't care for my guts," Reiner answered.

No warning again and Reiner slid his hand again in Bertholdt's hair, separating with the other the shirt that was hardly buttoned. It showed off a shoulder. Suddenly stuck against him, A knee between his thighs, Reiner was blocking the boy against the wall without taking care of anything, already attacking the pale skin with the tip of his tongue.

And in a franction of a second, Bertholdt regained consciousness when he felt the teeth caressing his shoulder, and tried to get off with no precaution.

"Motherfucker, how dare you do it here…!"

The big blond chuckled a little while straightening, licking quickly his lips.

"Sorry, couldn't help."

"Really…Leave me now."

Bertholdt was quite scared his tone wouldn't be persuasive enough and he quickly had the prof when Reiner's hand went down, gripping on his crotch. He had a surprised hiccough.

"Eh…!"

"Two minutes," Reiner murmured.

Bertholdt tightened his lips and looked down. From there, he could see his hand and already felt the fingers running between his legs, caressing against the thin trousers he choose to wear for the evening. The electricity that already spread all over him felt quite irresistible and he could help but left a sigh despite of himself.

"Anyway, you shouldn't go and find them," Reiner kept talking. "With that face of yours…Who know what they're going to think?"

Bertholdt felt his cheeks suddenly burn and violently pushed him, making the blondie go away with his fucking two minutes.

"Go to hell!" He yelled, giving a wide berth as quick as possible after throwing his towel to him to disturb him, as he was red to the ears.

In his back, he could hear Reiner's laugh. For once, the guy won. A little. And for now he just had to search for the cool outside and looked a moment for an exit without crossing anybody. No way that he would show himself like this!

Next time, he would crush them. Reiner's precious guts.

He promised.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

The silence had quickly grown in the room after Reiner'd left the place. Incredibly calm, Jean hadn't moved from his position: laying in the middle of the bed, without any goal, he was taring at the wood lathes of the bed above them. He could sight Marco's collar a little, the boy sitting cross-legged right behing his head. Sometimes the boy was moving a little, moving a numb leg and then reversing the sense of his legs crossing.

Jean lift his eyes a bit more, feeling his skull slip a little on the sheets when he inclined to the back until he could be able to see Marco's face. He wasn't looking at him. His look on the vacuum, he even barely listened to Reiner, the curve of the little spoon still half put between his lips. From time to time, he was softly sucking at it without even noticing himself.

Then the brown boy winced, looking down at Jean. He glared at him a little moment before twisting slightly his upper torse, squirming toreach his pillow without leaving his place. There, he sliped his hand under it, taking some thin fabric he applied on Jean's chin and corner of the mouth.

"You're still bleeding?" he murmured, rubbing softly.

"Mh…"

Jean winced a little, closing his eyes; He just moved a little his tongue and he already could feel the disgusting metallic taste of blood in his wound wasn't that bad, but bad placed and quite long.

"Seems it's better now," he said.

Marco smiled and took the large hand chief off. The blood on his skin was too dry and he didn't like the idea bout rubbing harder. Without a word, Marco slid a finger in his own mouth before rubbing again. There, Jean thrilled at the wet and hot feeling on his skin, and immediately opened his eyes, looking at him when Marco was doing it again, a finger in his mouth.

"What are you doing?"

"Cleaning you", Marco answered the most simple in the world.

During a seconde, Jean blinked at him, searching for some real sense in his sentence. But due to his expression, as applied as now, he finally decided there was none. And after a moent, Marco gave him some perplex gaze before suddenly stopping, wiping his own fingers in the fabric.

"Sorry," he muttered. "I shouldn't have…"

A bit surprised, Jean sat straightened a little to look at him in the right line. Marco was gritting his teeth, a little lost on what he should do or not in such a situation, and Jean understood it pretty well.

"Why are you apologizing?"

To say the truth, Marco didn't even have to stay with him in such a situation and Jean, even if he didn't want to show or admit it, was rather grateful to him for his presence. By the way, if Reiner was a great friend –and he was still fine thanks to him after all-, he just felt so much more erassured with Marco.

The freckled boy was unplitting the hand chief, trying to look interesting by the red blood on it now. His lips put in a thin lie, Jean put a hand on his crossed legs, making him started despite himself.

"You're ignoring me…Why where you apologizing?" he repeated.

Marco rolled the fabric in his hands, avoiding the gaze that was visibly looking for his.

"I did something I shouldn't have, especially after what happened to you."

Jean sighed, then put his fingers on hiw own sore cheek and his chin, where he could have felt the fabric and the fingers right before. Oddly, he didn't dare touch the corner of his mouth; Now in front of Marco. At that moment, he understood that well, yeah, it could have been unwarranted. It could have been, only. It wasn't. It was?

"You're…telling stupidities…," Jean mumbled. "there hasn't been as much things as that…"

Growling to hide his discomfort, Jean laid back, putting his head on Marco's crossed legs without thinking more. It was more pleasant that way, he told himself, stretching a little as his own hands were sliding along the thighs spread on each side of his head. He didn't take care about the shiver from the other boy, just thinking he was a bit cold. After all, it was cooler and cooler day by day and he knew Marco was rather sensitive to the cold: every winter, he spent his nights hidden his a huge amount of jackets, under his blankets.

Under his half-closed eyelids, his head slightly tilted back, Jean was looking for Marco's throat thrilling when he swallowed.

"S-so, what…Happened…In this case…?" Jeand heard him murmured.

He could feel that Marco had taken a long moment before asking. Jean tried to act strong in his way to take things and wanted to answer with a large smile. But right at that moment, the memory of the mouth, teeth, the hands, was back and his face darkened a little.

"Why do you want to know?" he grimaced.

"T-talking helps to exorcise, think less about it…Relativise…Well, it's often…What it's said…"

"Reiner told you the main part, didn't he?"

Jean's hands hadn't moved since he stretched on Marco's legs. The fabric of Marco's shirt was tickling his fingers and he let them curl around it, tightening slightly. He saw a shy hand above him, opening and closing one by one. So he closed his eyes a few seconds, until the hand finally end on his head. With sweetness. As he predicted.

Sometimes, he couldn't understand how Marco was functioning; one day he was provoking him, playing with his reactions, and the day after he looked unable to look at him right in the eyes.

"What reiner told doesn't count. I think he don't even know what really happened before he came in…"

Jean could feel the hand slid in his hair, messing slowly the light bangs. He pulled a little on Marco's shirt, making it go out of the belt of the trousers.

"He saw enough, actually," Jean moaned.

Marco's other hand came and slid on his face, covering his eyes with a "I don't care about what Reiner saw", said so low. It was weird to be like that, with his own face between Marco's –so delicate- hands. The silence and the calm were surrounding them. Outside, the sun was barely disappearing. The could hear the light noise of claims from the main room. And it was pretty sure that nobody would come here for a moment.

Marco's hands were hot. Soft, Jean noticed, and for a moment he thought the boy didn't have any soldier manners. It wasn't so bad to take care of himself sometimes. You could feel a bit more alive.

Due to the silence, Jean sighed.

"He first kissed me," he suddenly began.

He could feel Marco started under him. At first because of the sound of his voice, then because of his words. But he didn't move, keeping putting him blind while caressing his head, slowly.

"I-I was just a bit dizzy at first, a-and I didn't really expected that…," he murmured.

He often had to stop, searching for his own words not to get lost himself. Closing his eyes under Marco's fingers, he was trying to focus on the young boy's breath to concentrate. He moved a little his hands, still above his own head. His hand wrapped on the shirt was taking benefit of the heatcoming from the skin of Marco's belly. Jean didn't really know where was his own other hand by the way; it was hot and it was all that was important at the moment. He could feel another part of the shirt brushing him. Against his skin, it was the fabric of the trousers.

"I bit him. He…Didn't really appreciate…"

"His lip?"

Marco murmured, with the fear to stop him at any moment. Jean clicked his tongue as a 'no'.

"His tongue."

Without even seeing it, he could guess Marco expression; the boy had hold his breath for a seconde, had swalloewed hardly. Maybe he had imagined. He might have grimaced as he was used to do. Surely.

"It looked normal to him…Doing it. As if I didn't understand…"

Jean avoided repeating Eren's words about Marco. He would keep it for himself. If Eren had said such things, there might be some reason Jean still didn't get.

"I've tried to stop him, b-but that's not easy when you don't know what to say. I also tried to get out of all that."

"What else did he do?"

Marco's voice reached his ears when Jean was stopping, when he was flashbacking the scene under his eyelids.

"He…Bit me. Many times I think."

The hand in his hair left his head and Jean could feel it going down his neck, slowly. He shivered when the fingers spread his stretched collar, before brushing the marks of the teeth on his collarbones.

"Ah…Yeah, t-that…"

He could feel the cold air caressing his own skin; the shirt couldn't close very well and Marco had opened it enough to allow the coolness of the room to come in. Not being able to see Marco but feeling his touch was a bit disturbing. He couldn't see his expression at the moment and couldn't imagine what was in his mind.

"And after?" Marco murmured.

"He…Touched me."

"Where?"

Jean felt like he heard his voice vibrating but took himself back; it might have been in his mind. So he moved a little his pelvis, acting like he was just positioning a bit differently. He felt a movement behind him and recognized Marco's way to lean. On his face, Jean could feel his breath tickling the tip of his nose.

"Close your eyes," Marco said, in a very low voice.

Jean pouted a little. "What if I don't?"

"I'm leaving then."

Immediately, the blond boy plitted his eyelids –actually already closed but well. Marco might feel the movement under his palm, and he took it off despite Jean's deception.

But his presence came back the second after on Jean's hand, the one left on Marco's trousers. Or on his thigh. Or something else. By the way, what was his hand against, actually? His own warms were long too muche for them to touch that low…

But he didn't had the time to think a lot more; the fingers wrapped on his wrist, moving slowly to put his own hand on the one touching the collarbone.

Jean could feel the lips brushing his nose. He didn't want to know if it was something volunteer or an accident. But he would never open his eyes. Not If Marco had to disappear right away.

"Show me."

Jean felt quite taken aback by his ask and his hand gripped Marco's as an answer.

"S-showing you…?"

"Show me, Jean. What he did."

Hisvoice. Deep. A little hoarse. Low. Hesitating despite his try to have confidence. Jean felt his breath accelerating a bit and tried to remind the way eren took. Slowly, he pulled on Marco's hand, making it slid on him. Ah, first, the neck, he remembered. Eren was gone from there, touching his neck.

He swallowed feeling Marco's fingers. Even if he was guiding, Marco was the one touching him. Nothing to see with the other boy.

Then he lift his hand after the collarbones came back. Not the chest. Eren didn't touch here: he was sitting on it. So he had to put Marco's fingers back on him a lot more down, right above the bellybutton. Then, hemade him go down slowly again, stopping him right before his belt badly made up by Reiner.

"So he didn't do anything?" Marco breathed.

Eyes closed, Jean felt terribly disturbed by the contact with Marco's fingers. They were hot and he was shivering at every of their touch. His heart was beating so fast and he couldn't do anything.

"He…It was…Further, " he stuttered out.

"How?"

Hean tensed on his hand. Marco may know the answer. With his hesitation, Marco softly insisted.

"Show me, Jean. Show me where he's gone."


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

"Show me, Jean. Show me where he's gone."

There. His voice. Soft and sweet. It made him shiver. Jean had the feeling his ears were burning, the heat on his cheeks spreading all over his face. He was just praying not to blush, awfully ashamed.

Marco's hand came back on his eyes when he was about to open them.

"M-Marco…, " he moaned, a bit lost.

Marco's breath on his face had slightly moved. The boy might have gone a bit farther; he could feel his lips almost at the corner of his mouth. The hot air tickled him a little.

Under his bellybutton he could feel the fingers caressing his skin. If he hadn't his eyes closed and hidden, he might have naver noticed. But as blind as he was, he was overconscious about that imperceptible touch.

Marco quickly gave a look to the belt of the trousers. The button hadn't been made and the zip was just half done. Reiner wasn't really serious on that type of things when he had to take care of a situation.

"Did he do it?" Marco muttered.

Under Jean's hand, he moved his fingers by himself, making then running under the belt. With a nail, he tipped the metal button for the boy to understand where he was. He felt the hand on his tighten a little more from time to time and he could guess what he was thinking. Against him and under his hands, he could know every of his reactions.

He should have feel guilty to do such a thing. But no. If Jean had to be scared by his behavior, in any way, Marco would have stopped right away and would have even never tried to touch him.

"How do you know…?" Marco heard from a low voice.

Jean's lips were almost against his. It was terrible to feel him so close and not be able to do anything.

Against Marco's belly, Jean's fingers were still curled in his shirt, slightly trembling. But not with fear, Marco noticed. They still were so hot against his skin.

"It's still undone…," he murmured softly as he was finishing unzipping the trousers to open it completely.

Then his hand came back to Jean's low waist, jean's hand still in his hand. But when his fingers were in contact with his hot and shivering skin, the blond boy's hand attracted him a bit more down.

Marco felt the heat spreading all over his own face. Jean was really doing it. Even if he did push him to do it, Jean had no obligation, as for staying in here, letting him do or obeying that easily. And even more.

The tip of his nails had disappeared under the trousers. There wasn't a lot to go on for touching it, through the thin fabric of his underwear, and Marco's fingers had slid a little more in the inside. It was easy to notice that there, under his fingers just sliding on the top of it, it wasn't the fear Jean had felt with Eren. Not at all.

Jean's shoulders, against his crossed legs, started. Marco got a better take on jean's face, his thumb rubbing softly his forehead. He breathed slightly, warming up the corner of his mouth.

Attentively looking for his reactions, Marco saw his lips suddenly tighten, somehow in contrariety then half-opened.

"That…That wasn't…"

Marco hold his breath for a second. His cheeks burning, he began taking his hand off, stuttering.

"S-sorry, I shouldn't have…"

"No…!"

His throat tight, Jean had had a little voice, quite strangled. Fuck. It was just terribly…Cute? The blond suddenly raised his knees as if he wanted to hide himself now, maybe feeling too much exposed. But he kept taking Marco's hand off slowly.

"It…It was…Well, j-just…N-not 'on'…B-but…"

"Yeah?" Marco insisted a little, kind of perplex.

"In…Inside…"

And at that moment, Jean reversed everything. He pushed a little on Marco's hand against his skin to make it slid again as before, until Marco's fingers disappeared under the second lay of fabric.

Under the tip of his fingers, Marco could feel the thin curly hair covering the skin. Hot. So hot. He could feel Jean's breath, fast and irregular.

He wanted to say a long and big 'fuck' to his reason. For a very looong moment.

Marco barely heard a small moan when his finger ventured on the erection against his hand. Calm down. Oh god, calm down, Marco Bodt.

"Did he…Did he do it…?" Marco whispered, trying to stay his own master.

At first, he didn't think it would go that far. Or, actually, that Jean would accept and let him go that far on his body, nor would speak that easily about what had happened a few hours ago.

"N-not like that…" he heard.

If Jean didn't restrained himself that much, Marco was pretty sure the boy would have squealed. Taking his answer as a ask for making things differently, Marco curled his fingers around the thick member, shivering at the contact. Jesus Marie, what was he doing? Why? Why? Why-why-why-w…

"Ah, t-that…!"

The small surprised panting cut him in his existential questionments and he kicked out his reason to hell.

"I-it was…Like t-that…," Jean whispered. "B-but…"

"But?"

He could feel him started between his fingers. Burning.

"It wasn't…Good…N-not like that…!"

Jean suddenly left Marco's hand as this one was sliding a little more, and his own hand came to the first one to grip the first piece of fabric he could find. Marco swallowed hardly. That wasn't his shirt. It was his trousers. Or rather, his belt. Well, even more…under.

Oh fuck.

Marco took off his hand from Jean's face, just a brief moment to delicacy put off the hand disturbing him and put it with the other hand Jean had previously wrapped on his shirt. "Don't touch…," he murmured. Instantly, the fingers curled on the fabric the same way as the other hand did for a moment.

"M-Marco…You…"

Jean had half opened his eyes, with a look he didn't really know where to put. The freckled boy grinned a little and leaned again on Jean's face, his hand back on his eyes.

"Don't look, cheater…" he softly said. "Tell me what he did."

Jean tried to concentrate, avec if it was difficult. It might be the first time he felt so…Excited? Why? Because of what happened with Eren? Because of Marco, who was touching in such a hot way?

"He…Didn't do anything else…" Jean hiccoughed when the fingers moved a little more.

"You're sure?"

Jean moaned under his insistence; his hands left the fabric to slip under without thinking about it, finding the hot skin hidden beneath. When he felt the fingers touching his belly and not only by accident, Marco almost started. He felt his own lips brushing Jean's, a bit too close and shifted right away as if nothing happened.

"Y-yeah…"

"What happened after?"

Shivering again, Jean sighed and it made Marco's mind quite blank. Slowly, spying on his reactions, the brown boy moved his thumb up to caress the head, a little wet, his ear attentive to stay concentrate as much as possible. _It was so hard_.

With his hands gripping on Marco's waist, Jean let out a small exclamation he couldn't restrain.

"R-Reiner…A-a-a-rriv-"

"KIRSHTEIN YOU BASTARD!"

A big sound came to them and this time Marco wondered if they weren't just damned, always interrupted whenever they were alone for a moment.

At the door, her cheeks red and with a furious expression on her delicate face, Mikasa was looking for the blond. And Marco blessed Jean and his timidity that made him lift his legs up. At least from where she was, she couldn't see what was happening.

For now.

Oh god, no, stop, don't come any closer!


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

It was such a panic. As in his mind as in his boxers, actually. Marco's hand was still on his eyes and maintained him firmly even if he was trying and squirming as much as he could. But the fingers touching him –oh god- a second before had already disappeared, now covering his low waist the best they could.

Jean had recognize that voice with no problem –girly with no doubt- surrounding them in the dormitory. It wasn't very hard to know why : Eren had disappeared before the young woman come back from their training. So she hadn't seen him at all, even a few seconds, from about half a day. Or more. Jean wasn't sure anymore. He just remembered she was in his own session and she was so fast that they all lost her in the first minutes. So they abandoned about her and the idea to follow her level for the day.

Mikasa.

Why, between all of them, she had to be the one coming in? Why in _such a time_, by the way?

Despite his own will, Jean took his hands off Marco's waist and put them on the hand blinding him, trying to put the fingers off his face.

"Marco, l-leave me…," he murmured.

"Eh, Kirshtein!" The young Asian girl said again. "Where's Eren?"

Jackpot. Jean had barely open his mouth that Marco had already moved, putting a finger on Jean's lips to put him in silence.

"Jean," he immediately said, "Go to the shower. I'll take care of this."

A bit contrite at his friend's authoritative tone –if he still could call him 'friend'-, Jean obeyed quietly and rolled on his side before straightening up. He was free from Marco's hands and those ones were almost pushing him up.

But Jean felt a violent shaking at that moment and he didn't have to turn his look so much to understand: already at the bed, the young woman had almost jumped on him to catch his shoulder. And Marci had stopped her right away, taking her wrists and pulling her back.

"Hurry up, Jean," he insisted a little.

Unreassured, the blond boy nodded, avoiding Mikasa. He didn't need to look at her to see how furious she could be.

-You're escaping, Kirshtein! He heard behind him, then a inglorious insult from Marco and that one was probably for the young woman.

Jean didn't took his time. The coolness of the hallway had immediately taken him right on te face, biting his skin and cleaning his mind. His heels were claterring on the wood floor as he was walking. And there only, he noticed. His own breath still so fast, his burning cheeks. And not only his cheeks, actually. He looked down, still going further. He could throw his shirt out: half of its buttons was missing. The other half was kind of pouting, dangling and almost falling at any moment.

Uncomfortable at the idea that someone could see him like that, he gripped both parts of his shirt, keeping his eyes shut for a second. Well, he could also feel that their uniform trousers were too tight too. And the belt was too low.

That made him go faster to the showers.

"Well, tell me, Bodt", Mikasa hissed after she glared at the door shutting behind Jean.

At that moment only, the freckled boy left her wrists, after being sure she wouldn't run after Jean. He had always been unable to see how she could act, especially when it came to Eren.

"What does that mean?" she added. "I had something to see with Jean, not you."

Freed, she stepped back and simply sat down on the mattress putting her feet on the floor. Arms crossed on her chest, she gave him a dark glare, quite unprepossessing. Marco sighed and arranged the low part of his shirt to hide his crotch as much as he could. She looked like she didn't see anything.

"If possible," he said softly, "I'd like Jean not to have to talk about Eren."

"But he-"

Marco waved to her.

"Tell me what you know."

Mikasa scowled, squinting a little.

"Eren was with Jean the last time he has been seen. All the others said was that he's been arrested. No one seems to know what happened, but I'm pretty sure that Kirshtein brought him in another fight…That might be the only thing he's good at!"

Marco shake his head, his face darkening. If Mikasa just put that type of idea in mind by herself and when you knew how close to Eren she was…Well, it was rather normal that she was coming to attack Jean.

"I have to stop you right away," he finally said." "Jean is innocent here."

"What's the hint?" she hissed. "Eren wouldn't fight 'till he get in danger…! He's not that stupid!"

She suddenly jumped, stepping ahead with the firm determination to go after Jean. But immediately, Marco's blood ran and he got a lack of thinking. He barely had straightened that he was already on her. A noise resonated at his ears. Deaf. Loose. And for a second e wondered how he managed to stick her on the ground. After all, it was Ackerman!

Pinning her on the floor with all his weight, he blocked both her arms with his hands. It was quite an advantage against her to be heavier than her, even if it wasn't a lot more. Damn, she was eating the same thing as them all, how could she manage to be like that?

"I'm sorry, Mikasa", he breathed. "There's no way you go and see Jean…"

"I'm going to kick your ass, Bodt," she gritted.

He grinned a little. That girl wasn't bad. Just simply devoted to that boy.

"Jean his hot-tempered but he would never let Eren be arrested for a simple fight. You already got the proof, didn't you? Those two always stopped on time."

"Not this time! Jean went too far, he-"

"That's Eren who went too far!" Marco immediately cut. "He attacked him when he was the weakest!"

When he felt her agitating under him, he tightened his thighs on her pelvis to maintain her more firmly.

"You're lying!" she finally spitted. "Eren wouldn't fight without a reason!"

"I've never said they were _fighting_…It was a sexual aggression, Mikasa! That's even worse!"

And for the first time, he could see clearly the color of her eyes. They were opened so big and wide by the surprise. And he almost yelled. Maybe seeing her so insistant finally got on his nerves. He could see her eyes searching, left, right, up, down. A way to get free? Something to reply? She winced at a moment.

"I wonder how you can get disturbed…," she whispered sharply. "As I can see, you might have had some fun on him too!"

Marco furiously blushed. No need to think a lot about what she was talking about, she might have a wonderful view on the remains from the moment he spent with Jean.

"This time, it has nothing to see with y-"

The door opened all of a sudden and Marco had to be violence not to scream on Connie who was entering like a bullet in the dormitory. It was enough being interrupted, whatever the moment and the context. But the small bald boy had stopped staring at him, with such a stunned and decomposed face. After a moment of hesitation, Marco finally understood. Connie or whoever it could be, seeing him straddling Mikasa while he was pinning her on the floor may be more that tendentious.

"Man," Connie stuttered. "Wh-what are you doing now?"

"We're explaining," he immediately replied, hesitating about letting her go.

Connie tightened his lips, more and more red as he was looking at him in more in detail. The boy came closer with a fast step to catch him by the collar. Marco released Mikasa without more questions, surprised by Connie's intervention. Teeth gritted, the small boy approached his face closer to him.

"I wonder how you wanted to 'explain' with her," he hissed with a hoarse voice. "You've got quite the pole, you're aware?"

An instant, Marco felt the panic and paled. It was bad. With a look down he had the confirmation that their trousers were not only too tight but the belt also too _low_ on them. And his shirt was quite gone. It was a disaster.

"I-it has nothing to see," Marco whispered, trying to cooler his mind.

"Oh really? Goddamn it Marco, I could have imagine anything but…_That_…

"It told you no! Fuck, Mikasa! Do something!"

The tall Asian girl had straightened, arranging her clothes on her. The fall didn't even mess her hair and she gave an aslant look to Marco, visibly uncomfortable. And she looked down on him, wincing again.

"Mikasa!" Marco whined, imploring.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

The cold air from outside made him feel better. It was starting being cold, the first snow wouldn't last before coming. Dreaming for a moment, he lost himself contemplating the clear and white steam coming out when he breathed. The excitation from earlier by that stupid guy was just getting off. The cold was helpful and he could understand that some people throw themselves under a cold shower. But well, he was just back from the shower. It would be too obvious. So the place outside, in front of the building, would be enough for him to calm down, with a hard walk in the cold.

Bertoldt sighed and slowly stretched. He should have taken his scarf before escaping outdoors, he noticed while taking the towel off his shoulder. A shiver later and he was sneezing, pushing him to go back inside. Getting sick sure would be the worst idea of the year!

If he went out from a small door, he took the main entry to come back in. There, he could arrive directly In the big room where his comrades were in a play cards fight, in a infernal noise. It was even surprising that their instructor, Keith, still hadn't come by and he smiled a little: it wasn't bad to let them have fun sometimes.

But he frowned when he crossed Reiner's eyes looking from the corner of an eye during a second before going back to the game.

"Eh, Bertoldt!" Thomas called him. "C'mon, we still can add people!"

"Na it's ok," he simply answered, simulating some exhaustion.

The yound man insisted a little, fast joined by Franck and Hannah's voices. Bertoldt finally accepted and was almost put on the wood bench by the force. Facing him, there was a toothy smile that wasn't dedicated to him. Reiner was just there, his look on his own cards still in hands. As usual he was the winner and he showed his game in some royal behavior, laughing immediately with his big laugh.

Bertold softly sighed when someong put cards in his hands. He was always so bad at those games and so he didn't take it that seriously, discreetly observing the simple couple at his side. Hanz and Hannah had never really hidden their relationship even if they never alked about it. It was something natural that had happened. Nobody contested. They gently flirted without disturbing anyone.

Why? The young man couldn't get along with such a naivety. They were preparing to be soldiers. Some of them would die outside, eaten by titans, and some others would die inside the walls in the middle of a civil insurrection.

So they didn't fear about their regrets, loosing each others? As for the separation in life as in death? There may be a moment where tier positions would make them regret that decision.

"Your turn!" he heard at his side with a chuckle, an elbow gently patting his ribs.

Bertoldt smiled softly, as he used to, before thinking quickly and putting a card. He didn't really like that game, actually. And the fact that everyone was staring at him right when he was playing was disturbing. Everybody but _him_.

_Uh_?

Bertold frowned as everybody's attention was going to the next player. _His_ too. What was that for?Bertoldt may be pretty bad at that game, but Reiner could at least act like he was interested instead of ignoring him so frankly. He grit his teeth, trying to follow the game.

He was almost angry. And he was cold.

Free from his cards in a short time, the tall brown boy had finally sat up, on the nerves. During the game he had rejected (maybe quite violently) a foot against his leg. Reiner had no changement in his expression at his kick. Maybe it wasn't him, after all, there were so many legs under that table.

"Already leaving?" Reiner said. "You're quite a bad looser!"

"Listen to the winner!" he replied, trying to keep his smile.

"Maybe!"

Reiner had a big laugh and looked at Bertoldt. It wasn't hard to feel that he was detailing any part of what he could see.

"But when I want to win, I work hard for it. You know better than anyone, don't you?"

Under Reiner's insistence, Bertold tightened his lips in a thin line. There was to much people, was that guy completely stupid or what?

"That's your own problem," he mumbled standing up.

The big door had opened a few seconds to let a group in. Their green capes couldn't hide properly their tridimensional manoeuver gear, still hanging on them. Their faces were mostly disappointed for most of them and they walked in silence, crossing the room before disappearing in the hallway.

"Ah, the scouting legion…," a voice murmured. "Sad that Eren couldn't see them, he would have been excited!"

Bertold gave a look to Reiner again when he heard it. Nobody knew the situation. Some of them barely knew that the boy had been arrested but not the reason. It was better like that, Eren's return would be easier and they even could keep an eye on him. After what he had tried, the instructors wouldn't leave him that easy. It was the best.

"Becoming a pole?" Reiner suddenly sneered, putting him off his own thoughts.

"Fuck you," he immediately replied while receding.

Bertoldt decided to ignore the surprised look around them and left the place without another word. He wasn't used to get worked up like that, and what's more with no reason. In some a way, Reiner's behavior was the reason: he was making on his nerves. His iwn behavior too, by the way. If he was that wise he wanted to, he wouldn't let Reiner lead him that easy. In all the terms.

Mumbling, he made the towel clack on his shoulder, sniffling a little with annoyance (or at least he hoped so) while walking in the hallway.

"I'm sorry?"

Connie was opening some big eyes, his eyebrows raised high with surprise, and Mikasa tightened the grip she had put on the boy's arm. The scowled a little at him.

"I told you that everything is ok. You're disturbing us," she enunciated more slowly.

Connie became red, feeling suddenly ashamed about his own intervention. But he was sure about what he'd seen and what he'd have done!

"B-but he…Mi-Mikasa, he was about to…You…!"

With a hand, she took Marco in a quick move and with no difficulty to wedge him against her, alsmot under her arm. With all that, Marco didn't know where to go and decided not to act much more for now. When Mikasa had finally acted, he wasn't that sure to get everything. All he could understand by now was that she was persuading Connie that the situation what all normal and so was his erection.

A second…

_What_!?

Taking profit of the confusion killing both the boys, she abruptly took Connie by his collar.

"There would have happened what should have happened," she hissed. "You think I'm a weak little girl? I remind you it's _Marco_. If I weren't ok sith it, he would already know it. _Got it, monkey_?"

Marco felt his cheeks becoming red like tomatoes. The situation was becoming pretty weird. It had always been hard to get the young woman, and there again, even if she was saving him from the same thing than Eren, he wasn't pretty sure about what would come after.

Connie slowly nodded; Marco could see his throat thrilling when he swallowed with some difficulties, Mikasa's fist blocking him a little. From red, he was going to white.

"I got it," Connie puled.

He gave an odd look to Marco who was quite afraid to understand the meaning under it. With his luck, and with Connie's ability to peddle everything happening, he was going to be a masochist dedicated to Mikasa. Wonderful, really.

A throat strum caught their attention for the three of them ans the turned their heads together to the door. It was slightly opened and Bertoldt's head was viewable. He was saring at them without knowing what tot do. Actually the scene was so weird he really hesitated to take it as real and had pinched himself many times to be sure he didn't fall asleep in the hallway.

"Ah, B-Bertoldt!' Connie stuttered.

"You're spying?" Mikasa groaned.

Against her shoulder, Marco could feel her body tensing and he wondered what was seriously her quantity of muscles despite her thin body. When he thought about it, he'd already seen that her weight was already something impressive.

Bertoldt pushed the door to completely open it and shrugged.

"Do I look like a spy? I'm just tired."

She frowned a little.

"It's early."

"I caught a cold."

"You should have taken care."

Bertoldt sketched a smile. I seemed that his interruption (his presence actually) was annoying. But he was rather surprised to see it was Marco in Mikasa's hands and not Jean. Did he manage to escape? But he couldn't figure him escaping from Mikasa's furiousness…

"Are you done?" Marco suddenly cut between two replies still coming.

She looked down at him to give him a dark glare and he finally decided to focus on the tall brown boy at the door.

"Oh god…, " Marco sighed. "Bertholdt, go to bed now, and take my blancket!"

Bertholdt crossed his armes with an expression that showed his discontent and Marco managed (not easily) to get off Mikasa's arm and straightened.

"I can see you shivering for a moment! You take it, you shut up and you go to bed!"

"Do as he says," a new voice said.

Bertholdt felt a new shiver running along his spine when a hand reached for his shoulder. The voice was from behind and he knew who it was. Since when was he here?

Reiner leaned a little to put his face at his shoulder level, a bit against his back. "You should have not been out in this outfit," he murmured at his ear. "You were that pressed to run away from me?"

Bertholdt became reddish almost instantly and restrained a horrible craving to punch him right in the face.

"You fu…"

"Damn it Bertholdt! You have fever? You're so red!" Marco continued when he saw him being redder and redder. "Reiner, as you're here, make sure that he rest and cover!"

The boy didn't reply, as he knew nobody had noticed that the giant was almost stuck in his back.

Marco could feel Mikasa's hand push him in his back, more and more firmly and his feet were already walking. Connie had finally found his freed back and had stepped back, quite perplex. He finally spluttered that he was going with the others and literally escaped, making Bertholdt and Reiner entering the dormitory and leaving the entrance. Taking benefit of the space, Mikasa pushed a little harder.

"Hepl yourselves," she told them. "We need to talk."

The door closed. Dumbfounded, Bertholdt and Reiner stayed quiet a moment staring at the door where everybody had disappeared behind.

"He's gonna die?" the blond asked, thinking about Mikasa and Marco.

Bertholdt chuckled before thinking of his reaction, and a cover landed on him.

"Eh!" he mumbled turning to the boy.

"It's Marco's, he told you to use it or you're going to be sick. God, you're shaking!"

Bertholdt managed to put his head off the thick fabric and the first thing he saw was a shoulder with bulging muscles despite the shirt. That looked quite tight to him.

Reiner's body was warm.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

By flowing so much, the cold water finally reddened his skin. Jean barely noticed, his mind too focused. His forehead was stuck against the cold paving on the wall of the shower box. He sighed. Looking d own, he looked at the marks, various hematomas, covering a part of his belly. Until then, his shirt had more or less hidden those parts; even if Eren had caught him on time, their gear could easily injure them and knew a lot about it. Among all those marks, those dark tasks marbling his skin, there was a part still from the first accident. Marco may have some too, he thought. Jean shivered thinking back about the contact of his hands. He had a regret : not to have _seen_ him. His face. His expressions. What was he thinking when he was touching him? What did he do it? And himself, why did he let Marco do it? Reminding himself on the mattress, Jean almost had the feeling he called himself for more and more each time. After all, not refusing could mean continuing…What was the goal? What was he waiting for, by the way? And Marco, why did he act like that? _Why_ ? _Why_? _Why_?

The whole day just was pitiful. When he came to think about everything, he felt febrile again. The fear not to reach what he was here for. Did he lose his objectives? He'd been unable to do the simplest training, got almost abused by a comrade from the most ashamed way he could…

Jean let the tip of his fingers brush his collarbones, rubbing the place where there were the teeth bits left by Eren, and he winced. All of that, all the places where the boy had touched him, it was only fear and disgust. But the same gesture are almost, the same touching, by Marco and it was all different. Completely. Maybe the context? For sure, between being assaulted without any sweetness when he'd just fainted, and being touched in such a way…

Which way, actually?

_Fuck_.

He was growing hot again, just by the thought of it.

Jean started when he heard a noise and turned his front to the shower. If anybody had to find him, it would be better from the back, he wanted to avoid a new moment of loneliness.

"That's not weird, all of that?" a voice moarned.

Ah, Wagner?"

"But really…I thought it was something sooo bad, but thinking back about it, It wasn't possible…"

And Connie.

Jean could heard them taking off their clothes, the naked feet clacking on the paved floor. They might have not taken care about the water of Jean's shower or rather they might not mind about it at all, keeping on talking.

"But still, if Eren hears of it…"

Jean had been about to talk to show he was there, but finally he shut himself when he heard the name reach his ears. A first shower began, near his.

"What, that Marco got Mikasa? Or rather, that should be the reverse…"

He heard them chuckle at the reply. His thoughts from before had totally stopped and his was listening with such a concentration to understand well.

"Really, I would have never believe…You're sure? When I saw him in the afternoon, he was more worried than ready for a rodeo…"

Jean was almost about to stick his ear to the cold wall, holding his breath. He wasn't sure of what he was hearing. Was he hallucinating or…?

A laugh answered from a second box. The second shower started and Connie raised his voice for Thomas to hear him.

"You should have seen what was exceeding his pants, no way! He was even on her when I arrived! By the way…HOLY SHIT JEAN! WHAT'YA DOIN' HERE!?

Without caring anymore about the fact he was naked and that they were talking about, Jean had cracked and ran out of his box. His face red, his skin bit by the cold, he had popped in front of Connie's shower, taking him by surprise without even thinking of it. Anyway, his thinking was quite away at the moment.

"What does that mean?" he panted, leaning against the small wall of the box.

Connie stared at him a moment blinking, detailing him from top to down. He winced and finally lift his eyes to the ceiling.

"Oh god, no…WAGNER! If you too you're like a fucking erected pole, I'm leaving!"

A strangled exclamation answer from near and Jean caught Connie's towel to hide his low waist behind. He tied it despite the bald boy's protests and stayed in place, staring at him. Connie turned, visibly uncomfortable.

"Gosh, you're disgusting, that's my towel…," he mumbled.

"You'll take mine," Jean replied pointing the bench where were his clothes. "Answer me, what's all that about?"

"I don't see what you didn't understand, Marco is flirting with Mikasa and not just a little…I was there and really I've even thought Marco was attacking her as it was so…Well, you see! Eh, you're ok? You're pale…"

Silent, Jean didn't answer, staring at him a long moment to try and determinate how serious Connie was. If the boy enhanced sometimes his words, the base was basically right and based on reality. He finally left the wall and turned away.

"Gonna take a shower…," he mumbled beginning walking back to his box.

"Uh? Wai- Maaaaan, how many hours are you under it?" Connie exclaimed.

Worrying, the boy jumped on him to stop the taller one. Oh god, they all the same. Even if they were training to be soldiers, they were still human beings, tortured by their own feelings. But he did think that Jean had stopped trying to get the young woman for a moment. It was surprising to see him that turned out. Maybe he was so used to the idea that she was only here for Eren, that hearing she was getting along (hum) with Marco had been a huge shock?

"Take a sit," Connie gently said, but forcing him.

Taking Jean's towel, he dried the boy quickly, rubbing slightly his hair in the end. Leaving the fabric on his friend's head, he caught his shirt wandering not that far on the bench and made him put it as well as he could. But when he tried to shut it, hefound himself facing a situation he wouldn't have think about. No buttons. Or almost. Due to what they looked like, that was almost the same as no buttons at all. This time he was the one who had questions but he didn't ask anything to Jean. He managed to buttoned two or three. But as he was fighting against the shirt, another question came quickly : Jean was a rather normal human, and by the way one of the least flexible he'd known until now. So, it was unbelievable that he could bite himself that high on his own body. And it wasn't some animal teeth. It was _human_. Purely _human_!

Howevern Jean's dejected looks kept him from thinking that he could have had a relation lately. By the way he couldn't see how and when. There was nobody coming to Jean in _that_ way. Girls had taken their distance after the loud period where Jean had try his Don Juan effect, and he had no memories that the boy had tried again. That was even the reverse. At that moment, they discovered the shyness and his candid, despite himself. Nobody dared tell him.

Frowning, Connie took back the towel on Jean's head and dried himself as quickly before putting his trousers.

"Wagner!" he yelled. "I'm going with Jean, he feels bad."

He sightsaw a hand appear from a box, as a sign his comrade had hear him and agreed to it, then he caught Jean by the shoulders to take him in the cold hallways.

"Remind me why you're here?"

There had been a hard moment before Bertholdt finally accept and go on the bed he shared with Connie. Sitting legs-crossed beside him, Reiner had swaddled him in both the blankets : his own and Marco's.

The big hand was wometimes coming on his firehead, his cheeks. Berthodt would growl every time. It was quite annoying.

"Reiner, I'm not dying…"

"You're sick and here that's the same."

"I barely caught a cold!" he replied with irritation.

Bertholdt caught the hand before thinking, as it was coming again and tightened a little. He noticed Reiner's amused smile and he pouted a little. The other hand came gently on his head, messing with his hair.

"Even if you don't have fever for now, we have to manage for you not to have some later," Reiner replied.

Bertholdt sighed. Under all that fabric his friend had put on him, it was terribly hot. He could almost feel the sweat come and he didn't like it.

And he could feel Reiner's fingers slid a little behind his skull, one of them tracing a line along his neck, and he growled a little in discontent.

Here he was again, Bertholdt thought. He closed his eyes when the hand disappeared in his neck. The contact with his skin becoming slightly sweaty was neither good nor bad. It was _Reiner_. Just _Reiner_. He was used to his games. So why was he shivering like that? Maybe he was sick after all, and just the idea was comforting him right now, though it was pretty bad for their training.

The hand suddenly retired and then came back a second after under the blankets to unbutton his shirt. He opened his eyes, surprised.

"Eh, what are you-"

"You're soaked," Reiner cut him.

"It's too hot, that's the reason."

Reiner made the clothe slid along his arms. That was right, the fabric was quite wet and Bertholdt only noticed at that moment. The tall blond had put him a little off the blanket. The air of the room was awfully cold on his moist skin and he thanked Reiner when the boy wiped him quickly with the shirt he'd just taken off. Well, it wasn't that bad to let someone take care about you sometimes.

A long shiver took him. Now he was cold. Reiner was right, he had to do something before being worse. He stretched an arm to find the corner of the covers on himself, releasing Reiner's hand. Wait. He was still holding it from before?

A thin fabric fell on him at that moment. Something rather warm, but cooling quickly. Reiner's shirt. The blondie made him put it on without a word before laying against Bertholdt. The blankets came quickly again, back thanks to the young man's arm.

"Haven't I told you take profit a bit too much?" Bertholdt mumbled while turning on his side to look at hide.

A small laugh answered him. In the dark of the sheets covering them right to their head, it was hard for him to see his face. But he could feel pretty well the arm sliding around his waist to maintain his body against Reiner's. He growled again in discontent.

"And you never do," Reiner replied sighing. "You're gonna be old before the age."

"Maybe I don't want to enjoy in that way…," Bertholdt murmured. ""Hey motherfucker, your hand…"

The fingers that had begun sliding under his best stopped a short moment, just touching the moist skin they had nearby. Right under the waist. Reiner moarned a "Leave me alone and stop moving like that" as Bertholdt was squirming against him. Realizing that it was a bad idea as they were stuck together (since when by the way?), Bertholdt quickly calmed down. Mostly when the second hand of Reiner slid on his belly, running under the shirt. With the raised fabric, he could feel Reiner's hot skin.

Since when? When did Reiner become that close to him?

Or rather, since when did Bertholdt let him get that close in his life?

Reiner's face had come in the curve of his shoulder, in the pillow side. His hot breath was tickling his shoulder skin. His lips were moving, slightly, against his skin near the collar.

He didn't take care about the noise of the door opening once more and almost moarned when the fingers under the shirt began going up slowly, caressing his skin until a nipple.

"Bertholdt? You're above?" Connie's voice suddenly came out.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

When he heard the voice, Bertholdt had tensed. With the heat, the sound of fabrics to his ear, Reiner's fast breath, the feeling of his hands on his skin, he didn't take care about the fact someone had come in the dormitory. He tightened his lips together when he noticed the noise he just let out and slightly agitated to get off of Reiner. The blondie hand put a bit more strength on him at that moment, the hand in his back sliding to finally grip an ass cheek of his. Bertholdt held a small squeak, lost soon in his throat.

"Rein-"

His supplication was quickly stifled by two fingers penetrating his mouth and Reiner lift his head a little.

"He's sick," he said in a clear and loud voice.

"Reiner? Ah damn, that's why he was pouting so much?"

A thigh came against Bertholdt's crotch, making its path between his own thighs. A small stifled exclamation sounded under the blankets, despite himself, and the tall brown boy gave little punches on Reiner's waist. But the guy didn't mind about it at all and kept on talking with Connie through the blankets.

"Yeah. I'm staying with him, you can take my place !"

"Okay, okay! C'mon Jean…"

Berholdt heard a second foot step, probably the boy Connie had called for. But he barely had the time to worry about Jean that Reiner had put his head back on the pillow. Immediately, his thumb slid at the corner of his lips and he felt his forefinger playing with his tongue for a second or two maybe. Trying to openly show his discontent as best as he could, Bertholdt gritted his teeth, biting the fingers as good as he could.

"You're such a mess right now," Reiner suddenly whispered. "That's so rare to see you like that…"

He spoke low enough for him to be the only one to hear him. Bertholdt didn't really know how to take his words and shivered when Reiner's hand got up slowly, his fingers brushing slightly his low back.

Still trying to get off there, Bertholdt grip the wrist that was near his face, trying to firmly take it off. At that moment, Reiner gave a small rube and Bertholdt bite him more deeply when he felt the crotch of his friend rubbing against his.

Oh god, how did he manage to make that sound himself?

The electric feeling had surprised him, taking him off gard. Oh please nobody heard him. Reiner's fingers finally slipped off his mouth. And there only he noticed his own fast, short breath. If he was focusing on Reiner's breath, it might be the same. He could feel him tickling his chin slightly, by small shots.

"If I had only known…," Reiner murmured.

In the dark, it wasn't possible to see clearly his expression. But Bertholdt had perfectly felt the hand that had travelled down his face to his trousers belt. Reiner made the clothe slip a bit on his thighs, taking advantage of the loose trousers. BErtholdt gritted his teeth again, not sure he should react this way. Or just react. Je felt the hands sliding, one going back on his ass, the other one adventuring inside the trousers so easily.

"Eh, you never put underwears? You're pretty slackening…"

He felt like he was burning. Maybe the fever was finally here? He hoped it was the case, he would have some great excuse.

An excuse?

Why should he need one?

To let Reiner do whatever he wanted?

"Fuck you…!" he moaned.

The fingers left his low back for barely a second and Bertholdt felt his own arms abruptly pulled in the back: reiner had just put down the shirt in a quick gesture, leaving it on forearms and blocking them by the way. He moaned without thinking of it when the other hand pulled a bit more on his trousers, brushing his crotch again.

Reiner held a small smile. He doubted that Berthodlt could see him, but he'd rather preferred taking care. Even if he wasn't having fun of Bertholdt, the guy was able to think it. Especially when the situation wasn't at it. To every move he was making, he felt like Bertholdt was about to run away. And each time, he got the contrary. It was the best to go on.

Under his fingers, Bertholdt's skin had become moist, the wet, almost burning. He didn't need more to get that excited. Under the belt, he first touched with just the tip of his fingers. The small pubic hair curled and diverged slightly on his path. With his other hand he pushed Bertholdt's low waist closer to his, getting stuck to him and buried his face in the curve of his neck. Feeling him in that state, even if he didn't quite agree with that, drove him crazy.

Against the back of his hand, he felt the thick, warm head of Bertoldt's sex his ear, his breath, jerky and warm.

He furiously wanted to touch him. _Holy shit_.

Connie raised his head hearing a small sound from the top of the mezzanine but quickly didn't mind about it anymore. After a short turn to the shelves where Jean put his stuff, he had brought some clothes to the boy for him to dress up soon.

"Feel better?" he murmured.

Jean's face was a bit more clolored and was putting a dark tee-shirt on, hiding the boxers he had put just before. He slowly nodded, with that deceived look that didn't last on his face.

"Sorry," he murmured. "Just some tireness…"

"It's a pretty long tireness," Connie replied.

He sat on the mattress, crossing his legs, an elbow on one of his thighs and his chin in his palm, and he stared at Jean scowling.

"I don't intend to mess with what doesn't have anything to see with me," he continued," but what's happening, actually?"

Jean looked down to at him, turning the question up and down in his mind before slightly leaning his head.

"Well…Nothing…I guess…"

Connie pouted a little, visibly not ok with that and was about to answer when a moaned resonated. The raised their eyes together, listening to the loud silence that came after that.

"Seems that Bertholdt really feels bad…, " Connie said in a low voice. "I hope he'll get better soon…"

"D-don't touch….Here…Motherfucker…"

Reiner was about to take a great delight of Bertholdt's plaintive moans. The boy was almost shaking against him and it wasn't obviously not from fear or anything that way. Or if any, Bertholdt would a take a great pleasure to make him understand his way of thinking. He was like that : if he did _really_ not agree, he would send a very clear message. Or at least with him.

There, it was a bit as if, every time he contested, he was actually asking for more.

What he could feel under his fingers what indeed a great proof. Beteween the curls where he was running his fingers, sliding until he could touch the warm balls, it was hard not to touch the erected member.

"Why shouldn't I touch?"

His smell, his warmth. His voice. His moans. His way to say no.

His second hand left Bertholdt's back –or rather his ass- to undo his trousers. Those uniforms were so tight in that type of situation and the pain was coming gradually.

"It's not…Eh, what are you fucking doing?"

"Take my ease," he answered while trying to stay his own master.

Hard to do. His eyes was used to the darkness under the blankets, just enough to see Bertholdt's body. There, languorous under his eyes and hands, panting due to the warmth and his touch. He could almost guess about his reddish cheeks.

And it was even harder when he could feel the head touch his low waist for a second. Leaving the undone belt, he rolled his fingers around the sex, enjoying a small moaning hiccup sounding to his ears and came back with his other hand on the ass cheek half dressed.

Leaning closer to Bertholdt's ear again, he bite the earlobe he could reach.

"Seriously, you can't even imagine…," he began.

Emboldened by a loud moan, he let his fingers slid in the inside of the ass, caressing the center line with the tip of hisfingers. He barely touched the entrance he met, earning a start at his quick path.

"…All I could do…There…Right now…"

"Go fuck yourself, you disgusting pig…," the brown boy moaned.

Reiner held a smile when he felt Bertholdt's teeth in his shoulder. Between his jaws barely half-opened, he felt as if his tongue was against his skin. Just a , here they were, he cracked and was imagining things, ok.

And it finally came.

He had felt him agitate for a few moments and he understood soon, when he felt the fabric of his shirt leaving BErtholdt's arms. Ah, it was over. He'd get punched in a few time.

Or not.

Reiner opened big eyes when he felt the hands flying at his opened belt to put his trousers down.

_Oh wait. Just a minute, a minute! _

"It bothers me, that thing…" he heard moaning against his shoulder. "Take it off…!"

_Oh god. _


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

In the stable, the manure smell was quite hard to stand. He had always had a problem with that place and it was quite hard to him to get used to those horrible effluvia. When the door had closed behind them, he already felt bad at ease.

The youngwoman released his arm at that moment only, to sit on a big ball of straw beside the horses boxes. Arms crossed, she stared at him. According to Marco, there might not be anything more oppressing from her.

"You didn't have to go so far to help me, " he finally said. "You should have just…"

"It will give you some capacity for the day they'll surprise you on Kirstein," she abruptly cut him, raising a straw to her eyes high.

Marco paled when he heard her. It was bad. He looked up at her, trying to figure until what part she had understood. But he would know soon enough, and he regretted it.

"Honestly," she calmly continued, "you really thought I didn't noticed? You were together before and you were already that turned."

"You talk silly…That wasn't…"

"And you're a bad liar. Worse than Eren, if I'd dare say."

Marco thightened slightly his lips and went quickly on a old stool. She had never been stupid, in addition with being excellent at any physical states. God only knew what she had planned. He put a heel on the small rung between the wood feet of the stool and sighed.

"What do you want?"

With the tip of his fingers, she broke the straw and slid an eye on him.

"Nothing," she simply said. "But you're covering for someone I kind of dislike. And I've some ideas about the reason why."

Marco felt his cheeks getting red to his ears and stammered out some "I don't see what you mean", before Mikasa suddenly sat in a jump. In just a few steps, she came closer to him and was already leaning, slightly squinting.

"I do."

Too much close. She as definitely _too_ close and it was rather _not_ normal. Her gaze, her expressions, absolutely nothing had changed. And nothing moved when her fingers rolled in his shirt collar.

"It's a warning, Bodt," she suddenly murmured. "No sudden movement. Let me do."

Marco felt his heart jumping when everything happened step by step, so fast.

The door opening. His body flying off the stool with some terrifying easiness before crushing in the closest ball of straw. Mikasa's body straddling him with vivacity. Their faces, too closed. The mouth arising without any softness. On his.

Don't move? What was that fucking joke? Anyway he was too much under shock to even think about moving a toe, right now.

A small exclamation, a little strangled, came to them from the stable entrance and at that moment only, Mikasa straightened and Marco manage to recover his mind. Standing at the large door, Wagner was staring at them with big eyes, murmuring "He was right" without stopping, visibly under shock. And it was quite normal after all, according to Marco. Himself couldn't deal well with the situation and couldn't get everything at once.

"Problem, Wagner?" she gritted.

The young man shook his head. "N-no, I was just, uh…" He turned his head on every sides, before noticing he still had a saddle in hands. "P-putting in back in place!" he finished with a –almost- victorious start.

He almost jumped on the hooks where they put the straddles before leaving as soon as possible. He was almost running. Mikasa waited for a few seconds before straightening completely, sitting on Marco without any shame.

"Well, it's done," she said.

"Mi-Mikasa! Explain!"

She looked down at him and put some straw off the boy's hair. She was smiling. And he didn't like it at all.

"I don't like Kirstein. But Kirstein really likes you."

Marco tightened his lips again, waiting for every sentence with an impatience he wasn't even hiding anymore. Even if he knew Jean and him were closed, in some a way, he doubted that it would be at the point she could get him thanks to that relation. Jean wasn't _that_ dumb.

"And I know you do," she continued. That type of relationship is rather badly seen, if I don't mistake? What do you think would happen if _someone_ had to know you were flirting together? Well, I guess it would still be ok…"

She leaned again, narrowing her eyes a little as she stared at him.

"…But if they had to know it's more than some sexual understanding? He would be fired, for sure, don't you think? He might go on those farms, working again and again…Don't you think he would die in the end? Just like those who are already there…"

"Damn you, Mikasa…What do you want, exactly?"

She chuckled a little and put a finger on Marco's cheek with an amused smile.

"That face he will show. Because of that guy, Eren is lost. I just want Jean to be as lost as him.

Marco took her hand off his cheek with the back of his hand with a dark look.

"You really think I'm going with you?" he hissed while straightening.

"You choose," she replied. "My silence on your little games or Jean will be the first to be hurt because of your disgusting relation. That will be your choice."

Marco swallowed. The choice was horribly easy. The idea that he could himself suffer that type of things in public was baffling and disgusting him in advance. But thinking that Jean could suffer the impact of his mistakes was unbearable.

He turned his eyes off her, wincing without hiding it.

"Well, it's ok…, " he murmured.

Mikasa was a fucking _wore_.

_That was all. _

His trousers down to his ankles, he finally managed to get rid of it with some kicks. The muscled arms were hugging him. The mouth was kind of eating his shoulder. His body was almost burning against him. And his naked crotch was rubbing against his boxers without any principle or restraint.

Perplex, Reiner had some difficulties to regain his composure. "B-Bertholdt," he breathed," Calm down, wait…" Immediately, Bertholdt's face left his shoulder. Reiner was almost sure he earned a dark glare and hold a moan, as from surprise as from the pleasure he couldn't hide a lot, when the long and thin fingers came to grab his crotch on the thin fabric he was still wearing.

"You're looking after me for months like that, and now you tell me to calm down?" he hissed. "Assume!"

Bertholdt's voice was low and hoarse. To Reiner's ears, for now there was nothing more exciting. Without waiting anymore, he slipped his face in the neck he could reach, bitting softly the warm and thin skin, his hands going back on the body, running on each part he could reach. His wais. His bely. His ass. And his ass was contracting when he grabbed it. He loved that small movement he had. Actually, each muscle contracted when he touched it. From as ass cheek, his hand slid behind a thigh to put it up to him. Their bodies were a little unbalanced and Bertholdt rolled on his back, Reiner taking profit to go on him. The long legs immediately circled around his waist while the hands were gripping his blades without waiting. His face was somewhere, lost in his shoulder, once more. He still had that hot breath when he raised his face. He could feel his lips against his ear.

"That's all?" he heard so low. "What was all those words about, before? Just imagining that?"

His voice was jerky and Reiner smiled. He probably would never have another chance, and he praised for the fever to be the responsible. And that Bertholdt would forget everything once his mind would be back.

With a hand, Reiner grabbed Bertholdt's jaw, staring at him for a moment, until he could see his face clearly.

"Don't underestimate me…," he murmured.

With his teeth, he lightly bite the down lip he could reach, pulling gently on it and playing with it with the tip of his tongue. It was hard to restrain and not to do more. Against his crotch, Bertholdt's low waist moved a little. And blocked between his legs, Reiner had almost no exit. Or rather, none. It was unbearable to feel him rubbing against him like that.

His hand had reached down back, sliding without a lot of hesitation on the sex he had left before. Almost immediately, he enjoyed a long moan resulting from his touch, his fingers sliding all along. He could feel him shivering, shaking a little. He could wonder for how long he hadn't touched himself. Of if he ever had. Ah, that might be a question to ask later…

"Oh, Reiner! Is it ok there? Bertholdt sounds quite weird, na?"

The blond felt Bertholdt start under him, probably too much abruptly taken back to reality. He left the lip and slid again two fingers in the half-opened mouth as he turned his head.

"He might have some nightmares," he answered in a voice a bit loud.

"Need some help?"

"No! I-I mean, it's fine, thanks!"

No need for this now, Reiner thought. At the same moment, as he was back to his stuff, he felt their roles a little reversed when Bertholdt's tongue slip between his fingers, slowly caressing his knuckles.

"You're looking for me, fucker…," Reiner murmured.

With his other hand, he quickly got rid of his underwear, and well the rest of his reason could go and die at the moment. If even Bertholdt had given up, why should he care?

He would think about it. Later.

For now, the tongue sliding between his fingers was putting him to the edge. IN his back, the hands were slipping down, slowly, until they grabbed his thighs.

Crap. That was _only_ his fingers. What would it be if it was…_No_. Don't think about that. Don't.

Without thinking about it, Reiner moved up his thumb, caressing the head twitching in his hand. The sound Bertholdt made between his fingers appeared to be the most improbable thing in the world. He did it again, in a more confident gesture. And a small growl came, under his fingers andthat tongue moving, and Reiner was already imagining that tongue somewhere else on his own body. If they were at it…Even if it was rather a bad idea.

He felt a hand pressure get lower before heading to his wrist, and felt like some deception when Bertholdt let his fingers slid out of his mouth. Almost. His breath was the best Judas ever.

"Do…Do something, dumbass…!"

His voice was like in a supplication, low. His tongue came out, caressing the tip of the fingers still on his lips. Bertholdt in this state was just totally erotic.

And so he went on and took his hand off back, sliding it between Bertholdt's thighs. He had touched him before and so he found the small entrance without any difficulties, the tip of a coated finger sliding in the inside. A start answered to that. Suddenly, with a hint of stupor he heard the crack of the wooden slats and waited a few seconds. Connie didn't seem like he was reacting or anything. Maybe he was the only one hearing the sounds, or maybe it was just an idea. Berthold's hot and fast breath made him go back again in his little world. He pressed his palm against the soft balls, pushing a little as he was moving a bit his finger. In a uncontrolled move, Berthold agitated his ass a little, with a small scream he just strangled by muzzling himself with his own hand.

"S-stronger…Stronger, Reiner…!"

In his low back, he could feel Berthold's nails scratching his skin as he was obeying, adding a second finger with some difficulties.

A shiver. A start. A new strangled moan. He felt something rather hot flow between his fingers. His jerky breath. His hot and moist body. And that fleeting ray of light.

Wait.

A ray of light?

His blood ran away so quickly and Reiner turned his eyes. At that moment, the blankets were already back to hide both of themand he heard the sound of the rungs to the ground.

_Fuck_.

"CONNIE!" he immediately yelled recognizing the boy's step.

"I haven't seen anything! Anything! Holy shit I promised I didn't see!"


End file.
